Introduction to Proxy Warfare
by Major Wes Janson
Summary: It's year four at Greendale, and life is back to relative normal. Pierce and Shirley have a sandwich shop together. Britta is working on her Psych major. Abed has a therapist. Troy is a first year AC messiah. Jeff is searching for his father. And finally, Annie is trying to figure out what she really wants from life. But one little change can easily disrupt the fragile balance...
1. Hit and Run

_Some stories are meticulously plotted, with predetermined character arcs and clues revealed at the proper time to lead to a satisfying resolution. But real life is not so simple, nor are many television shows or ongoing comic series. They are messy, complicated things, where often the safest course of action is to just be a fly on the wall and observe. Still, some flies are too cool for the wall. _

_-Abed Nadir_

* * *

"I think that shirt is working for you, actually. Goes well with the jeans. Are they Italian?"

Jeff poked his head around the door of his open locker to see who the vaguely familiar voice belonged to. A tiny Asian girl stared up at him with a perky smile that did not fit with his memories of her face. It was Annie. But not his Annie, err, Annie of the study group Annie. It was Annie Kim, of the Earth 2 and the crisis alerts, not the Annie who now made a habit of stopping by his locker on Mondays and Wednesdays. (Coincidentally always at the same time Jeff tended to debate the need for a midday wardrobe upgrade. Annie tended to vote in favor of the change, regardless of what he was actually wearing at the time)

"What?" he blurted out in response, before the compliment triggered his charm reflex, and he gave her a lopsided grin. "Oh, well yeah, I am really rocking the blue colors today. Thank you!"

Then the rest of his brain caught up. "Wait a second, why are you talking to me? I thought you said I was creepy! And you stole Annie's idea for the Model UN last year!"

Her response was to blush slightly and duck her head, breaking eye contact. Her voice was softer than he remembered as well. "Well, I didn't know you that well, and you were sort of overprotective. But after you helped save this place from Chang this summer, I decided to look you up and now I can see why she had a crush on you." She looked up at him with a coy smile. "But maybe first impressions were a mistake? Either way, you should really keep the shirt. Changing it now would probably mess up your hair. See you in class Monday!" With that, Annie Kim turned around and walked off down the hall before he could get some sort of response out. He did notice that she had the same determined but short legged stride that characterized the regular Annie when she was being formidable.

Jeff frowned in confusion. What the hell just happened? After the Model UN debate debacle, debat-acale?, Annie's Asian doppelganger had basically dropped of his radar. The two girls continued to butt heads in class, but once Annie moved into the Casa de Trobed, she evidently began to vent her annoyance to the duo at home rather than at the full study group. (Not that he missed it or anything) And now Annie Kim shows up in front of him and seems to be compli-flirting with him? And what was that about class? They didn't share any classes, and after last time, he was not going to show up in Annie's class like an overprotective paren...friend. That _was _kind of weird, he had to admit.

The sheer randomness of the event shook his thought processes the same way he associated with the Dean's uncomfortable appearances in the study room. Should he just ignore it and hope it blows over without someone getting all touchy-feely with his magnificent pecs? Wasn't there a girl named Kim he had ignored who then died, or something like that? And why were there so many people with similar names in this school? Kim. Annie Kim. Annie Edison. Either there was some coincidence, or maybe Abed had a point when he rambled about limits on people named Steve last year.

Jeff shook his head free of the annoying questions. Whatever. At least she made a good point. Changing his shirt _would_ mess up his awesome hair, likely to the degree that the wardrobe swap would not make up for it. Maybe later he could nail writing a couple more pages in his most recent journal. Then he could keep it simple, focusing on writing something up to par with his usual brilliant Winger revelations. He wasn't going to over think things, and he definitely wasn't going to read anything into it. Nope. Jeffery Winger was not a teenaged (well, OK, 21 year old) girl who did things like that. He was just going to let it go and wait and see if he could make it through one week without Greendale or the study group bothering him with some disaster. It was a plan. A good plan. It would work.

"Jeffery Winger to the Dean's office, Jeffrey Winger to the Dean's office." The PA chose exactly that moment to interrupt. Well that plan lasted precisely three seconds. Still more evidence for the 'Pelton is an evil genie' theory. He was tempted to simply ignore it, but that would only make things worse. Odds were that if he didn't go, the rest of the day would be interrupted by ever more pleading messages for Jeff to come to the office, maybe with some fake promises of free styling products. He was still cranky at Annie for teaching the Dean that little trick. Plus, there was some curiosity. Just a tiny bit, mind you, but normally if the Dean wanted to talk to Jeff, he would just drop by the study room dressed in women's clothing. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner it would be over.

At least the music coming from the band room as he walked by was a cheerful tune that sort of sounded like whistling. Abed was convinced that any music not personally selected by one of them was in fact part of a grand soundtrack, and to pay attention to cues from it. At first the group had dismissed it as Abed being Abed, but he persisted and now it was as much a habit as nose-goes and counting greetings and farewells. The secretary simply waved Jeff on into the office when he arrived. A quick flash of light caught the moment and he saw one of the newspaper geeks scurry off. The study group, and Jeff as their de-facto leader, were by now essentially known by everyone on campus. The celebrity was fun, he had to admit, and the cover stories in the Greendale Gazette Journal Mirror were flattering, but the newspaper staff was also discovering the concept of paparazzi. So far it was harmless, but he didn't like where it was going and vowed to use his position as ex-editor in chief to try to squash that little idea.

"Jeffrey, come on in. And close the door behind you." The room was more dimly lit than usual, the overhead light off and lighting provided by a pair of the green Law and Order lamps that had sprouted around the campus last year. Evidently there had been a sale.

"What is it, Dean. I have class in like..." he glanced at his watch, "three hours." Pelton waved at a chair, but Jeff crossed his arms and remained standing.

"OK, well, Jeff, first I have something for you." Well, that wasn't good. Jeff cringed at the potential outcomes of that statement. Thus, he was surprised when the Dean handed him a bottle.

"What is this? Is this a bottle of Glenlivet?" He personally chose Macallan, but this was a very nice bottle of scotch.

"Why, yes it is, Jeffrey! Think of it as a gift before you hear the favor I am about to ask you."

Jeff took another look at the bottle and back at the dean. "I think by gift, you mean bribe. And I've told you before, I'm not interested. Ever. Ever."

Pelton shrugged nervously. "OK, it's a bribe. You got me. And I've come to accept that all I will have are fond memories of times at the mall and my Dean Dangerous stories."

"What?"

"Anyways, I was hoping you would do me a teensy tiny favor. You remember the problem with Ben Chang a few years back?"

Jeff took a seat and winced. "Which problem with Chang? The man is a lunatic!"

"The problem where he happened to have no actual teaching credentials."

Of course he remembered. That little incident was sparked by a certain obsessive student who was afraid the group would break up during the summer ratted out Chang. It was also the same incident where he had learned that said student was both able and willing to use her cuteness to manipulate others out of blaming her. Finally, it was the same incident that necessitated some rather costly repairs to his Lexus, including a new windshield and driver side window and repair of some keytar shaped dents in the roof. Outwardly, he kept his expression bland and simply nodded.

"Well, it turns out that a couple few other instructors here may also have been, shall we say, less than honest about their qualifications."

"Really? What sort of qualifications do you need to teach classes like Ladders, or Advanced Breath Holding, or Introduction to Learning? And how many teachers are you talking about? I know at least a few are real instructors. Whitman, Duncan, Cornwallis, Garrity/Professorson. They may be nuts, but they are real professors."

"Low blow, Jeff, low blow. You know that last one was not a real class. We had to cancel the night school shenanigans. Well, someone semi-anonymously alerted the teacher's union to Professor Speakensai, if that really his name, and they decided to look into it. They found six more fake professors. Can you believe that! Seven fake instructors in _my_ school! Can you imagine the damage if word of this spreads and we have to cancel those classes?"

"Well, Dean, no one even noticed that this place had a fake dean for a while. I can see some professors coasting under the radar for a while. But what does this have to do with me? You know that unless it affects my course schedule or one of the others, I could give a crap. And really? _Speakensai?_ The name didn't give it away that he was a fake?"

"In my defense, he said the name was Greek. And I know you don't like this school. You made that clear when you called it a Falujah, whatever that means, as part of kicking off that little summer vacation riot of yours."

"Don't try to guilt me, Dean. I have a tolerance now, thanks to some masters of the art. And besides, I never turned you in for hacking my e-mail. _And_ we rescued you from captivity."

Pelton pouted at that. "You're never going to let either of those go, are you?" Jeff shook his head no. "Well, the favor I need is this: I want you to teach the Public Speaking class as a substitute until I can arrange a real replacement for Speakensai." The dean leaned forward with a pout and his best attempt at a Disney face. Why was Annie teaching the dean all her tricks to manipulate him? Even if it didn't work at all when the dean did it, (in fact it was rather creepy) it was still not cool. He stood up and turned towards the door.

"Nope, not going to do it."

"Why not?"

"Because it is bad enough that I am a student here. Being a teacher here is much worse. And I don't need anything from you." He started ticking off fingers. "Parking space, access to the faculty lounge, advanced registration. You've used up all your bargaining chips."

Pelton pointed at the bottle. "What about that?"

"Well, it is a very nice bottle of scotch, I'll give you credit for that. But you did give it to me as a gift, and I choose to think of it as an apology for the crap you put me through with your "Dean-ger Games" just to register for a class."  
He took another step towards the door.

"Please, Jeffrey, I'm begging you. You are a lawyer, and good at the public speechy stuff. It would be a breeze for you to do, and they would get something out of it! It would only be fore a few weeks, a month tops. Are you sure there is nothing I can do to convince you? Anything you want, I can have arranged! Well, not _anything_ but there are quite a few potential things I can have arranged."

Jeff considered for a moment. On one hand, it would be terrible for his reputation if people found out he _chose_ to be a _teacher_ at Greendale, even temporarily. On the other, his quiet search for his father now involved several private investigators, and he had been out of work after Alan blacklisted him when Pierce decided to turn to Jeff for his legal needs. Turns out that trying to find someone who couldn't leave a trail if he tried was not the cheapest venture in the world. Jeff was rapidly reaching the point where he would have to debate the merits of continuing his search versus having the money for decent food, rent, and skin care. It was worth a try. "Fine, Dean. I'll do it, but it will cost you two grand a week."

Pelton sputtered in shock. "You will? You will! Wait, two grand? I can't pay a substitute teacher that much! The other teachers would be furious!"

Jeff shrugged and leaned in close to Pelton's ear. "Take it or leave it, Dean. Though a word of advice, the others won't get angry if you don't tell them." The last was delivered in a conspiratorial whisper which made Pelton shiver.  
Then he shook himself out of it.

"It wouldn't work, Jeffrey. The teachers union has spies everywhere. They would find out and call me a bad dean!"

"Actually, they'd be more likely to try to get you fired."

"That's not helping Jeffrey!" Jeff thought about it for a minute, tapping into his legal wizardry to circumvent the rules.

"How about this. You hire me as a legal consultant for two grand a week, and during that time I will _volunteer_ my time to teach a class that is clearly in need. You aren't paying for a substitute, but a lawyer." As he saw Pelton considering it, the reactions of his friends if they found out about this little deal ran through his head.

_That's not a nice thing to do, Jeffrey. Lie and cheat to get more money at the expense of the other poor teachers? I'm disappointed in you, and pray that you see how wring this is. _

_You jag! Figures you'd try to extort more money out of the school than you deserve. Taking advantage of the poor dean to do it, too! What do you need for anyways? More hair product to restock your safe?  
_

_I expected better than this from you, Jeff. It seems more like something Season one Jeff would do. It doesn't fit with your character development.  
_

_Every man has his price, Winger. I can sympathize. Back in '77 I was out in Kentucky...  
_

_Is that a lot of money for teaching? I guess that means teacher markets are what they are referring to when they say 'market value' food.  
_

Annie would not say anything, just give him a huff and look of disappointment before turning her back on him and walking away, leaving him frustratedly wracked with guilt.

"Oh, and could we keep this quiet? No-one needs to know about the pay, and I'd rather not make a big deal about me doing this class teaching. Or a little deal. Or any deal at all. OK?"

Pelton smiled in agreement, immensely perky now that Jeff had agreed to the proposal and solved the riddle of how to pull it all off. "All righty. I think that will work. The board told me that they would overlook any sort of legal fees required to deal with the little Chang issue last semester, so I can just hide this away in that area." He stuck out his hand for Jeff to shake. He did, but then had to fight to free it from the Dean's grip. "As soon as I get Speakensai's lesson plans and other course material out of the evidence locker, I'll drop it off at your apartment. You said you want to be discreet after all."

Wait. Lesson plans? For a speech class? How involved was this course? What did he get himself into? Jeff let himself out of the office quickly, purposefully ignoring the fact that the Dean seemed to know where he lived as well.

* * *

Author's commentary:

I have a good reason for George Lucas-ing the first (and soon second) chapter of this story before I even get chapter 3 up. It's all Chapter 4's fault. Working on it, the character's took on a life of their own, and proceeded to act like they were much further along in the season than they should have been. I had figured out the rough course I want to go with this story, but Annie especially wanted to jump ahead a couple of dozen chapters.

Between that little issue and refining my plan for the story arc, I had to effectively write off chapter four. The plot points, though, needed to happen, and seeing how the first two chapters are so much shorter than chapter 3 is turning out to be, I decided to go back and edit them to include the plot points. In the future, I'll try to keep a lid on my urge to refine and reedit my existing work though. As for the feedback, thanks to everyone who spoke up. Glad you liked it so far.

Some background notes:

This story takes place about a month into the new semester, and about two months after Introduction to Finality.

I have read spoilers for season 4, and will be referring to a few of them loosely, but once Community comes back on the air (not soon enough) this will become an AU season 4.

I will probably break the overall story into episodes. We will see how long each episode turns out, as unlike TV, I do not have to fit everything into 22 minutes.


	2. Minefields

_As the philosopher Jagger once said, "You can't always get what you want._" _To which the reply was_ _"Oh, I looked into that philosopher you quoted. Jagger. And you're right. You can't always get what you want, but as it turns out, if you try sometimes, you get what you need."_ _Good advice to live by. _

_OK, so that whole conversation was taken from the pilot episode of House M.D. Doesn't make it any less true. And House was a good show. For the first few seasons. Then it just sort of started to keep going and going, until you lost interest in the characters you invested so much into. But I digress.  
_

_-Abed Nadir  
_

* * *

Annie shrugged out of her backpack, carefully pulling out her binders of notes and books one at a time. She was alone, as both Troy and Abed were at various classes still, and none of her other friends had dropped by unannounced. The group met up most days at Greendale, so no longer needed to hang out in the apartment like the dark times of the temporary expulsion, but it had become habit for all of them to stop by the Casa de Anntrobed from time to time.

Living in an apartment with two guys had been an adjustment. Especially with the two she roomed with. It wasn't all fun and games, and she often found herself acting like their mother more than her friend. Plus there was the issue of privacy. It took three weeks before the rule of "No going through Annie's stuff in her room" finally sunk in, but after a late night waking up to being filmed in bed by Abed, she now tended to lock her door when she was out of the house or sleeping as well.

The plus side to that policy was that it was safe enough to stick her books and notes for class in her room without having anyone see them. True, she made copies and handed them out, but right now, she'd rather not anyone know that she was taking one law class (a real one, taught by an actual lawyer!) and auditing another. Her goal was still hospital administration, but her current internship at a pediatric clinic was far from what she hoped it would be, and the surprising amount of fun she had working on the yam-murder case caused her to decide on law as a backup plan. She didn't plan to tell any of the others that little fact anytime soon. Especially not Jeff.

Jeff would be disappointed, as he seemed strangely opposed to her following in his footsteps. OK, maybe she did gloat a little after getting Todd to confess. He was right about having a code-ette. But she made her own decisions now, not just to please him. It wasn't like he was her boyfriend or father, so he really didn't have a say in her life. Besides, not only was that trial fun, she had bought and worn a business suit, making her look and feel more grown up. So hah.

On the other hand, letting Jeff know about her law studies could help in a way though. He did have a surprisingly extensive collection of legal books for someone who claimed to have cheated and charmed his way through lawyering. If she could just read those, she could save a lot of money instead of buying her own copies. Maybe she didn't need to let him into her secret though. Maybe if she was at his apartment, she could quietly pilfer a few to read, and then put them back without no one being the wiser. She just needed an excuse to visit there instead of him and everyone else coming here.

Wandering into the kitchen, she snagged a brownie to nibble on. Leftovers from the Pierce and Shirley Sandwiches shop helped stretch her food budget rather often now. Seeing the kitchen table though, Annie huffed in annoyance. It was covered with parts from an air conditioner unit, obviously one of Troy's homework assignments. Piece by piece, she transferred the parts to the work bench in Troy's room, careful not to drop anything on the floor. On occasion it could be dangerous to walk around barefoot, though not nearly as bad as before. After Britta had stepped on a condenser coil in the middle of the night, Troy had been far better about keeping parts picked up. Every once an a while, Abed still came to Annie with a stricken look after hearing a loud clacking noise as their Dyson vacuum (Annie, the commercial says it's got a little tornado inside it! We have to buy one!) ate another washer or bolt.

As she finished the brownie and contemplated grabbing a second, Annie's cell phone buzzed with an incoming text.

**Shirley B: Hello Annie! :)**

**Annie E: Shirley, hi!**

**Shirley B: Are you busy later today?**

**Annie E: I was just going to go over my notes before History tomorrow, but I could make time if it's important.**

**Shirley B: Thank you sweetie. Do you think you could do me a teensy favor?**

Annie winced. She knew what was coming next.

**Annie E: What do you need to talk to Pierce about this time?**

While Jeff was the representative for both owners of the sandwich shop on the legal and business side of things, he most definitely did not have the patience or inclination to mediate the frequent disputes between the two. He didn't toss Annie under the bus though, Pierce's _second_ good idea had been to ask Annie, the person he liked most, to do it. Shirley had agreed, and turned her very capable guilt tactics on Annie when she tried to protest. ("If anyone can make peace between those two, you are the one to do it!" "Jeff's right, Annie. You could be like George Clooney in the Peacemaker!")

**Shirley B: You don't need to take that tone with me, young lady. I'm asking you as a friend. And the good book says that friends should stand by each other. **

**Annie E: It's just the third time this week! And it's only Tuesday! **

**Shirley B: Well if you don't want to help, I suppose you don't have to. I mean if you have more... important things to do, that's fine. **

**Annie E: Fine. Tell Pierce you can both come by at 6. Abed has his session then, and Troy is going to be eating out, so I can grab a late dinner. **

**Shirley B: Thank you Annie! I'll bring some soup for you when I come. God Bless!**

Annoyed, Annie dropped the phone on the counter and decided she wanted, no needed, another brownie after all. The words ran through her head. _Helping only ourselves is bad, and helping each other is good_. It was like her mantra when she was asked to settle sandwich shop disputes, or help Abed through his fortunately less frequent breakdowns. When Britta or Troy came to her to vent various annoyances. When Jeff asked for help with homework (though he did seem to be doing more on his own, rather than trying to get her to do it for him).

_It's that easy: you just stop thinking about what's good for you and start thinking about what's good for someone else...and you can change the whole game with one move._ The problem Annie had was what was the game she wanted to play? She'd stopped trying to replay that night at the dance over and over, hoping to figure out how she could have made it turn out differently. Well, OK not stopped, but at least did it less frequently. According to Britta, proud at getting a 90 on a psych midterm, trying the same thing over and over again but expecting different results was the definition of insanity. Still, over-thinking things and being slightly neurotic was part of who Annie was. It didn't make her crazy-town banana-pants.

On the other hand, she wouldn't exactly call herself happy right now. They were no longer expelled, true, but it felt like most everyone else was moving on with their lives, while long shifts at a clinic where the other employees didn't really seem to care that much about their patients was starting to wear on her, making her question her long term goal of hospital administration. She wanted to help people, but it was like the job sucked the enthusiasm out of people. It was a pediatrics clinic too, which should have been lighter and more cheerful than the nursing home her bubbe now lived at.

The only other person in the group that seemed to be feeling the same way as her was Jeff, but trying to talk with him would be a whole other can of worms. She had spent long nights trying to more critically assess her feelings about him, ever since being confronted on the issue by Abed in the Dreamatorium. Maybe she was more focused on making him love her and treat her the way she wanted to really think about how she actually felt about him. Yes, she was attracted to him. His ego about his body was admittedly justified, as his starring role in many of her _adult_ dreams proved. (His only competitors in that regard were Mark Ruffalo, of course, and Neil Patrick Harris. Probably because of how the latter looked in a suit.) He also made her feel special, and supported her when she needed it (mostly). Behind that cool hipster exterior was the heart of a man who had a lot of good in him, who just needed support to be a genuinely good person. And he cared about her, a lot. The problem was trying to pin him down on that front. It was a path that led to mixed messages, frustration, and heartache. Annie knew that she could use his interest in her to manipulate him if necessary, but any sort of real attempt at any sort of progress and he froze up. _Relationships are complicated_ he claimed to her, more than once, and seemed determined that that was a motto to live by rather than just an observation.

Regardless of all _that_ baggage, Annie was still tempted to try talking to Jeff about her new insecurities about the direction of her life. He had both more experience in life (thinking of him as old or older made him feel awkward and gross, she had found after killing several touching moments on accident) and a real talent at reassuring people. But for some reason, Jeff had been rather distant lately. He didn't act much different when they met up in the study room or when she would stop by to chat at his locker, but he only rarely showed up for things like movie night or group potlucks. Annie quietly asked Shirley, who confirmed that he had cancelled some of their lunch meetings (she was _not_ envious that Shirley seemed to be the one Jeff confided in), and Abed, who theorized character development, but didn't have enough data to make a more accurate theory. The end result was that with Jeff off being Jeff, and the others all seeming to be moving on without her, she sometimes felt sad and lonely.

If she hadn't just promised to mediate the sandwich shop duo _again_ she would seriously consider pulling out her Caroline Decker ID and taking a taxi to a bar for a few hours. Not so much to get drunk or anything, but because it was fun to be Caroline for a while, and Caroline was a drifter who hung out in bars for fun. Unlike Annie who had bought as many of the little sample size drinks as she could after turning 21 and was systematically trying them, taking notes on which she liked and didn't like. Thinking of which, she _could_ just raid the no-no juice cabinet. It was mostly full of beers Troy and Abed bought because they had funny names, like Surfing Shark or Bloody 'Ale, and her own little stockpile of mini-drinks, but there were a couple of bottles of scotch that Jeff had donated over the summer for when he would drop in. At first an acquired taste, Annie was now rather fond of it. Maybe just a little bit while she did homework before the apartment filled up with people.

* * *

Author's Note: Following up from the altered first chapter- Chapter 4 went a lot differently than I expected, especially when it came to Annie. The original Chapter 2 she was mostly perky, if a little irritated, but then she suddenly became morose two chapters later. Thus, this chapter was extended to better fit with the planned arc.

Chapter 3 will be up shortly, once I finish with the results of the meeting that Annie is about to referee.


	3. Psychological Warfare

_Abed is really a sweet, caring guy, even if he doesn't quite know how to show it. I've known him for about six weeks now. When we met, he thought I was cute, and reminded him of the girl from Modern Family, Hayley. I think he meant it as a compliment. Never watched the show myself. He also told me a few other things. First, that he is a very strange person. Sometimes funny strange, sometimes scary strange, and that it may not be safe to be around him. OK, he can be a little odd, but everyone is a little froot-loops crazy gloves sometimes. And he can be a real sweetie. For someone who claims he only started to learn empathy last year, and claims his last date was with a secret service agent who watched him through a window, he can be really romantic at times. _

_The other thing he told me is that his friends are basically his family, and that they will probably come first to him. I've met his friends, but don't know them all that well. Mister Winger I know the best, as he has been teaching my Public Speech class since Professor Speakensai left suddenly. There are lots of rumors about that, but I don't know if any are true. Mister Winger doesn't like being called that, as he claims it makes him feel both old and less cool, but he is our sort of teacher right now, and calling him Jeff would be disrespectful. He used to be a lawyer, can be kind of sleazy (I think the two are related), and some days pays more attention to his phone than the class, but he is a great speaker. The first day of class he managed to make some people tear up after snapping a pencil in his example of a good speech.I think some of the girls in the class have a crush on him. I usually see Annie Kim talking to him after class ends. Not sure what the appeal is, personally. He's kind of, well, old. Not ancient like Pierce though.  
_

_Pierce is also taking the speech class as well. I'm not sure why Abed is friends with him, but they met at the start of his first year in some Spanish study group. The man is rich, old, and the most politically incorrect man I have ever met. He tries to help people in class, but mostly shouts repeats of filler words and talks about handing sandwiches, which then turn into talks about his sandwich shop. Shirley is the co-owner of the shop. She is nice for an older lady, and is a practicing christian, even if she is not Catholic. Talking about the Lord gives us some common ground. She also goes by the name of "Big Chedder." I'm not sure why. It must be some sort of inside joke. _

_You would think I would be worried about the fact that Abed is roommates with a girl, Annie. I remember seeing the two kissing during the crazy paintball thing my first year here at Greendale, but he was just "being Han Solo at the time" and the two never dated. More like siblings was what Annie said. She can be really nice, if a little high strung. Kind of like Annie Kim from my speaking class, but a tad taller. Of course, both of them are taller than I am. I wish I wasn't so tiny. I'm not sure, but I think she is dating Mr. Winger, but Abed says that the two are complicated, and that he sees a potential plot arc coming up.  
_

_Troy is far more simple. He is Abed's best friend, and his other roommate, but spends a lot of time in the AC Repair annex that I never knew Greendale even had. He is not the brightest guy I have ever met, but is stupid good at fixing things. He and Abed are really close, sometimes to a scary degree. They are like best friends/roommates/brothers/boyfriends. I think Troy and Abed would run away together before anything ever happened with Abed and Annie. Maybe that is why Troy doesn't seem to have a girlfriend. He's pretty hot, if you like the nerdy/jock type.  
_

_I can't stand Britta. I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual. She is like an evil cross-breed between a hipster and a hippie. She wants so hard to be a bad girl and to save the trees, but spends most of her time yelling at people and trying to read their minds with psychology. And she is a terrible singer. She ruined the Christmas paegent last year. I'm glad I don't have to spend much time with her, but it is always strange when I am hanging out at the "Casa de Anntrobed" and she unlocks the front door and just walks on in. She always just turns around and leaves when she sees me there. I'm not sure why she has a key to the place. Maybe all of Abed's friends do. _

_-Molly Adner_

* * *

Even after a half dozen visits, Abed was still thrown off by the appearance of the room he met Doctor Isaac Connor in. It was so normal. A small office with a computer, a trio of chairs, a shelf with psychology and psychiatry books, and a potted plant he was still determining if it was real or fake.

"Good evening, Abed, how are you feeling today?" The doctors voice was smooth and friendly, with a note of professionalism that Britta still lacked, if she ever mastered the trick.

He shook hands with the doctor and sat on one of the moderately plush chairs. Not a couch. The walls had rather generic art and framed degrees over a mellow brown paint instead of institutional white and padding. Abed considered the question. It was a toss up if it was just a greeting or an actual question. "I feel OK, I think. Better than last session, but not as good as the third session, or the fourth, which was the best one so far."

Connor nodded and then opened up the increasingly fat file folder that contained notes of their sessions and pulled out a pen that probably cost more than their door-brick. "So what made those sessions better than today?" Abed didn't expect a followup question to what was normally a conversational greeting. Despite five previous sessions, he still felt like this was all maybe a trick, a lie to make him cooperate with the doctors. He thought he was ready for any gambits or attempts to control his brain, doing extensive research (What About Bob, Analyze This, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest were the most recent movies) and using his past sessions to help refine his simulation in the Imaginarium Booth. Doctor Connor was still normal though, and showed no signs of being a fake, evil, or English. Maybe Annie was right. Maybe he did put too much faith in his predictions and expectations. Maybe not all doctors were trying to control him. So far Connor had been rather helpful and open, so maybe it would be fair to finally return the favor. As an outside viewpoint, maybe the doctor could provide a useful perspective on what seemed to be a brewing storm.

"Well, I'm personally feeling better. Those breathing exercises actually work really well when paired with Yoga. I also did what you said and read that book on how clocks work. I still don't see it though. Time only moves forward, and modern technology is insufficient for time travel, so unless the hands make a mathematic representation of the proper time, they would only seem to work if it was Groundhog's Day. I still like digital time better. Much more straightforwards, none of that geometry to deal with." More notes were scribbled down. "Sorry, I went off on a tangent there. I'm not all that concerned about clocks right now."

"No, no, it's fine, Abed. I'm here for anything you want to tell me." The baritone voice worked its calming magic, part of the reason Abed had agreed when Jeff had signed him up for therapy sessions with a psychologist he had worked for when he was a lawyer. _Remember he's a great doctor, but never, ever let him drive anything. I've gotten the guy out of way too many traffic offenses. If it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have a license._

"I'm glad to hear that. Though if you want to write a book about this, maybe change the names of my friends? They'd probably be embarrassed or angry to hear some of the things I notice about them. I'm still working on empathy. It's kind of tricky."

Doctor Connor frowned at him. "Why would I write a book about you? You are my patient, not a case study." Abed frowned at the odd response. Maybe he wasn't evil like other doctors, but why would he be willing to help if not to publish about it later?

"Really? It's just that last time I talked to a psychologist, he was more interested in writing a book about me. Probably to seek fame and validation he never really got from his father. I understand that I have a lot of interesting mental conditions that would make for an interesting case study."

"Well, for one thing, that is not only unethical, it's illegal to do without a patient's consent. My job is to help get better, not exploit you."

Odd. If there were more doctors like this, he could have avoided that whole hassle with his tonsils last year. The more he learned about the therapist, the more he was surprised. Still, the writing of a book about him would not be bad, it was just the principle of it. "Oh, well, thank you. But if you want to write one with my permission, that is OK. I don't mind being a non-fictional character."

"How about we focus on you first, Abed, then start talking about anything else."

"All right Doc. But I think the problem right now isn't me, but the rest of the group. I'm getting really worried about them. All the simulations I have run indicate disaster is coming, maybe as soon as a few days from now."

"I thought you were going to try to cut back on planning and predicting life, Abed."

"I have been. Since we shut down the main Dreamatorium and Troy moved in there, I've cut back simulation time by 18 hours a week on average. But this is important, so I've been doing more research."

"What sort of research, Abed?" Connor leaned forwards, paying closer attention. Admittedly, Abed had been more evasive the first few sessions, but concern had him opening up. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a thick folder of his own, handing it to the Doctor.

"It's all in there. I made copies, so you can keep those"

Connor simply took the packet and dropped it on his desk with a loud thunk. "There's a lot there, Abed. Maybe you could summarize it for me?"

"Right. Right right right. Where should I start? OK, background information. You remember my descriptions of my friends from that earlier session?"

Connor nodded. "Yes, where you compared them to Firefly characters? I remember. Good show by the way. I've also watched most of the episodes you sent me of _Community College Chronicles_."

"I'm glad you agree, or I'd have to change therapists to someone who didn't hate Firefly." The doctor looked slightly nonplussed at that. "OK, you know the basics of my friends. Well, as a group, we tend to have about twenty to twenty five strange adventures a year, spaced out to an average of one per two weeks, with a break for summer. There is  
a strong correlation with Greendale College, so I would have expected the pattern to continue through summer school. It sort of did, but at a lower intensity. But since finals, everything has been normal. Completely normal." He paused to collect his thoughts and see if the Doctor was following along.

"I understand so far, but what is the problem? Isn't normal a good thing?"

"Exactly! Normal should be good, but not for us. None of us are really capable of normal anymore. All these ridiculous adventures seem to serve as a pressure valve for the group. You know that I have problems. But the others do  
too, almost as bad. It's a sitcom convention that the weirdos meet and become a group that becomes a family, but without cooperative writing staffs, the same problems that brought us together will drive us apart. The adventures, and I hate to call them zany but the word fits, allows for us to vent frustrations that would otherwise permanently  
split us up. If I'm using too much jargon, could you let me know please?"

"I can follow along just fine, Abed. After our second meeting I took a crash course on TV tropes. It seems to help you express yourself, so I looked into it. This is good, you seem to be opening up more and more, so keep going. If I have questions, I'll ask."

"What about your notes? I know I can get to talking fast, do you need me to slow down any?"

"Trust me, I can keep up. I've learned to type fast, and shorthand helps. One of the secondary skills you learn in my profession that comes in handy elsewhere."

"Taking notes quickly? That could be useful. Think you could teach me later?"

"Yes, Abed. But try not to get distracted. You were talking about the group venting frustrations?

"Yeah. These adventures keep us together and sane. But since the finals, everything has been normal. Greendale has a decent budget again, and with real teachers we are back to doing real schoolwork. Normal schoolwork, sort of like a few years ago, but we are not normal anymore. And the tensions are building up. A lot of the issues that have come between us before are going to happen again, but this time we don't seem to have anything to divert attention and let us resolve them in our own strange way. I'm worried that none of us are capable of resolving our problems normally at this point."

"What sort of problems are you talking about resolving?"

"Without going into three years of backstory, it comes down to a couple of major issues. Pierce's desire to the relevant, Shirley's desire for respect. Troy growing up into his own person. Britta's self esteem. Jeff's character development. Annie's ambition to overcome her past. And then there are the interpersonal issues. Shirley and Pierce  
both seeking the respect of the rest of us. Myself, Troy, and Annie as roommates. Myself, Britta, and Troy and the role Troy has as the heart of the group. Jeff and Annie, well Jeff and Annie."

"So you see a lot of problems among your friends. What about yourself? How do you see your situation?"

Abed shrugged. "I have issues really connecting with and understanding people on an emotional level. I can sort of see what people are feeling, and cause and effect predict what they will do, but even with Troy I don't really understand the why. Without seeing a person's actions, I can't make any sort of educated guess on what their emotions or decision-making process is. Over time, though, I can build up experience and get pretty accurate simulations of people's behavior. The problem is that if I get some of the initial assumptions wrong, my predictions will be way off. That's what I'm really worried about right now. I don't have a real good baseline for my friends in a 'normal' situation, so the pressure that is building up will probably explode in a way I'm not equipped to deal with."

It was hard enough to deal with situations of an emotional nature as it was. Unless he was caught up in the middle himself, Abed tended to try to stay out of the way, observing and refining until he was able to step in with the appropriate solution, or Jeff managed to rally the group on his own with a speech. There were times when he was jealous of the older man's ability to understand people's emotions and manipulate them. True, Jeff could be a shallow, self serving son of a bitch at times, he had an easy way with people that was to be admired.

Fortunately, the doctor seemed to know exactly what the heart of the current problem was. "So are you saying that right now you are concerned because you'd like to help your friends, but don't think you are able to empathize with then enough to do it?"

Abed snapped his fingers. "That sounds about right. Now how do I fix it? I'd rather not do anything with a sappy music montage. If I have to do a montage, I prefer power ballads or cheerful upbeat stuff like when you have to build things in a hurry."

"Abed, it's not something you can do that quickly. You said you don't think you are equipped to deal with your friends problems, but still want to help. What is stopping you from trying to help now?"

He paused to think about it. True, he had tried to help in the past, with some success. The drunk dial fiasco with Jeff and Britta had restored the balance of power to the group, even if she still teased him with clips from it from time to time. And while talking to Jeff about Rich during the group induction episode had not actually resulted in the outcome he had expected, it had resolved. And the Christmas Pageant had worked out in the end. Mostly. And the girls had simply come to accept his distribution of chocolate at the appropriate times. But other times...

"I mostly serve as the groups balance mechanism. I've observed them for three years now, and can sometimes manipulate the situation to even things out. But when I get involved in the middle of things, I tend to make them worse. Jeff and Britta's Sophomore year. The Pillow Civil War. Stop Motion Christmas. And Evil!Abed showed me the kind of damage I can do if I took advantage of what I knew about my friends to try to manipulate them directly."

"Maybe the problem is that you are thinking of it as manipulation? And I don't think you have mentioned this 'Evil!Abed' before. Who is he?"

"Evil!Abed is either a projection of a version of myself from the darkest timeline to this one, or maybe some evil personality I have inside of me. I'm not sure which."

Connor looked concerned at what he was hearing and scribbled more notes. "But what makes him evil?"

"Well, he resents that he comes from the darkest of the alternate timelines that Jeff created, and wants to make this universe into a copy of that timeline."

"And how did he plan to do that?"

"Well, he only got as far as hurting Britta's feelings about her own worth, and trying to cut off Jeff's arm before he was stopped."

"What stopped him?"

"Cord was too short. But then Jeff did one of his speeches about friendship and I was able to take back control."

"You do realize that you could be considered dangerous because of that."

"I do. And that is why I am talking to you."

"Well, if you have any more violent thoughts, be sure to tell me immediately." Abed nodded his agreement. "Back to the other point, what do you think would equip you to help your friends?"

"I, I don't really know. I thought I was here so you could tell me that."

"Abed, therapy is not magic. I know that we have spent the previous sessions getting to know one another, and you want answers. And I know it is a cliche, but you are the only one who can answer those kinds of questions. My job is not to tell you what to think or to want or to do. It's to help you understand and accept yourself better. I can tell you that there is nothing that properly equips us to help others. All we can do is take the willingness and desire to help others, and do our best."

Abed cocked his head in confusion. "But you help others for a living. Doesn't your training equip you to help others? Wouldn't it then be false to say that there is nothing that can equip people to help others?"

Connor chuckled. "I didn't think of it that way. You may have me there. But you could look at it the other way. I've taken courses and been trained in psychology and psychiatry. I have learned how the brain works, and how minds work, though that is an ever expanding frontier. But did it equip me to help people? That was a choice I made for myself. I could have gone into criminal profiling, or marketing, or law, where understanding people is highly valued. But I decided I want to become a therapist, and took those classes because of that. You are looking for answers, but you may be asking the wrong question. You say you are not equipped to _help_ your friends, but from the sounds of it, you are worried that you do not _understand _your friends as well as you like. By your own words, you can predict them and manipulate them, but don't understand them."

The therapist paused for a second to gauge any reaction. Abed sat still, brain mulling over the distinction. It did seem to fit. He based his interactions on cause and effect. Observations led him to conclusions that various inputs into people and situations would result in specific outcomes, but the process was mystifying. When he did try to make predictions based on his understanding of people's emotions rather than his observations, he had gotten things badly wrong. Since that little incident with Annie, he had been studying her more closely, trying to reconcile her revelation that she did not love Jeff like he thought, but was 'in love with the idea of being loved' instead. Abed could see the truth in the latter statement, but had problems with the first. It went so far against his observations of her behavior around Jeff that he decided either she was lying to him, lying to herself, or possibly did not understand love herself.

Abed blinked quickly, ending the stray path of thinking. He was aware that his face was rendered blank, and that Connor seemed to be getting concerned, so spoke up with the logical continuation of the speech. "So you are saying that I am mistaking my inability to understand people for an inability to help them? Don't you need to understand people in order to help them?"

"Well, it does make it easier sometimes, but there are many forms of help. You may be putting to many expectations on yourself as well. Like I said, the point of therapy or help is not to solve the issue yourself, but to support the other person as they try to resolve the issue for themselves."

"If you don't understand people though, can't you make it worse by trying to help?"

"Abed, you could just as easily make things worse than they could be by _not _helping."

Okay, he hadn't thought about that before. He had fixed the Dean's commercial because he was 'too cool for the wall,' but what about all those other times? Were there situations that could have been resolved much more easily if he had been willing to take a risk and get involved? Was he to blame for some of the more explosive incidents like Pierce's bequethal pranks? Was this what Troy felt like when his brain wrinkled? And brains were wrinkly already, so did that mean it became more wrinkled, or wrinkled the opposite direction and thus straightened out? His eyes widened and he started to wail at the implications.

"Abed, Abed, Abed. remember the breathing exercise! In through your nose, one, two, three, four, five. Out through your mouth." As he focused on his breathing, his mind calmed down and the feeling of static faded. "Can you tell me what happened this time, Abed?"

He caught a few more breaths before shakily responding. "I was thinking about some of the big problems the group has had in the past. Am I to blame for making them worse by not helping at the time?"

"Honestly, without having been there, the best I can say is maybe, maybe not. You like things to be stay simple and honest, so I'll tell you this. You may very well have been responsible for making things worse sometimes. In fact I am nearly certain you have at some point. But you have also made things better as well. You can't go back in time and change your actions, so don't focus on guilt or blame. Take those memories, and learn from them. Let them motivate you to do better in the future."

"I still don't see how I can really help without a better understanding of why they respond like they do. I don't want to see my friends get hurt if I make things worse trying to help." Abed was still on edge from his minor panic attack.

"Why not simply ask if you can help and see how they respond, for a start? And you need to stop focusing on the negative. You are thinking about your friends getting hurt if you make things worse. Why not think about how you may be able to make them happy by making things better?"

"I suppose I could try that. It kind of feels like we are going in circles with this discussion though. If this was a show, you would have said something profound, and I would contemplate it then realization would dawn and everything would be better. It's kind of frustrating going over the same thing again and again. Too much like reruns."

Connor chuckled. "Well, this isn't a TV show. It takes time to work through things. You want to learn more empathy and better understand people's emotions, which is not an easy task. Most people learn by a lifetime of experience. I do have some reading recommendations you may be interested in, but it will take time."

Abed nodded in agreement. "And what if something comes up and my friends need my help sooner?"

"Then try thinking of it this way. In Quantum Leap, Beckett would jump into a situation without knowing anything about what was going on. He had to learn as he went. He didn't let that stop him from trying to make things better though. He had the desire to help people, no matter what."

"That seems to be an oversimplification of the show, and he had Al to help feed him information. But I can see what you mean. Thanks, Doc."

You're welcome, Abed. Now, for the rest of the session, we can work on something else if you like, and let your mind settle some. I'd like you to expand on the breathing exercises, see if we can make them more reflexive so you can calm yourself down when a panic attack hits..."

* * *

The loud voices could be heard from the hallway outside apartment 303. Abed wasn't really surprised. Like he had said, the group was having a hard time dealing with "normal" and arguments between group members was up 16%. Today, from the sounds of it, it was Pierce and Shirley again. He ran through the new breath exercise a few times before opening the door.

Inside, the scene was relatively normal. Troy was sitting on the floor with a pile of wrenches in front of them, wearing a blindfold and trying to organize them into size order by touch. Pierce and Shirley were at the dinner table, surrounded by piles of papers with sketches and drawings on them. Annie was pacing back and forth next to the duo as they babbled over each other. "Good evening, everyone."

His entrance managed to grab everyone's attention for a moment. "Hey, Abed!" Troy waved in his general direction, not bothering to take off the blindfold. "This one feels like a 5/8, so it should go about here..."

Annie looked relieved to see him and stopped pacing. She flopped into a chair and waved him over. "Abed, could you talk some sense into these two? It's been two hours and I've gotten nowhere." Abed had no clue what the argument was about, though odds were that it had to do with the sandwich shop, as most of Pierce and Shirley's recent arguments did. Well, he was supposed to try to help out more, but had hoped to have a chance to watch some Quantum Leap episodes for inspiration first. Guess plans change.

"OK. What is going on?" All three of the people sitting at the table looked at him in surprise.

"Pierce is being unreasonable! He wants..."

"Shirley won't let me come up with a mascot for the shop! She wants to push me out of..."

"Enough!" Annie's near shout silenced both of them. It wasn't quite as loud as when she threw a tantrum, but still shocking. Normally she was more diplomatic. "Abed, Pierce wants to design the mascot for the shop. Shirley think's it's offensive. They have been going at it since they got here."

Abed nodded. Short, concise plot summary. Good. Now how to sort things out. Best to go with black police chief close to retirement. That ought to work. He knew Shirley would respond to it at least.

"All right you two, _what_ is all this hassle about? You're affecting my digestion here! You first, big guy!" He saw Annie roll her eyes and gulp down a glass of something that smelled alcoholic, but that was a question for later.

"Well, Ay-bed, the shop is doing well, but we don't have a mascot. Something iconic for when we start to expand! You know, like the Chick-Fil-A cow, or the McDonald's clown, or the Chuck-e-Cheese rat. A do have quite a bit of experience designing mascots you know, so I decided to come up with one."

Shirley scoffed. "Experience designing mascots? Is that like your experience writing jingles, or acting in TV commercials?"

"I designed the Greendale mascot, didn't I?"

"OK, you two, simmer down. Yes, you did design the Human Being. On the other hand, that thing is more horrifying than the monster in a Japanese horror movie."

"Well, it would have been better if the Dean had not vetoed some of my better design ideas."

"Pierce, just show him what you wanted to go with!" The older man handed a sketch to Abed, who studied it for a minute.

"What is it supposed to be?"

"What? It's a cheery baker who makes the sandwiches!"

"It looks like the Pillsbury Dough boy, but black."

"Exactly! Don't you see how that is offensive!"

"Well, excuse me, Shirley, I tried to compromise but you shot down the idea of making it a girl baker."

"That would have been even worse!"

On the far side of the table, Annie took another drink. It was out of character for her, but he could understand the motivation after just hearing the two co-owners going at it. It didn't look like her first, however. No collection of little bottles and no-no-notebook (Troy's name for her book of notes on alcohol) meant that she was probably drinking the scotch, which she reserved for either happy times and celebration, or sad times and wanted to feel better. Process of elimination narrowed it down to the latter, but Abed couldn't recall her reacting this way to any of the other little sessions with Pierce and Shirley. Maybe something was wrong.

He waved at the two who had started up again over the sketch. "OK, you two, I want you out of my office! Don't make me have to put you two up on report!"

"But Abed, what about the mascot? You know I'm right that we need one!"

"You let me worry about the mascot. You two worry about pulling yourselves together and shaping up!"

Shirley glanced at Pierce and the two nodded in agreement. "That's so sweet, Abed! And you know all about movies and TV stuff, so you can come up with an idea that won't get us sued for infringement!"

"Ay-bed, I'll just leave these sketches here for inspiration. And I'm willing to let you design the mascot if you gives some advertising time on your morning show." The two headed for the door, satisfied with the solution Abed had offered them. True, it meant more work for him, but things like mascots were simple compared to people. Maybe Connor was right. He didn't have to understand why the two were fighting to help, he had just managed to alter the argument to something he was more familiar with. As a bonus, black police chief was a fun character to play.

"And you young lady, I thought you had a better handle on those clowns! You are perfectly capable of shutting them down long before it reaches my desk!" He expected Annie to smile at him, or maybe try to explain, or just vent whatever frustrations had caused her to break out the scotch on a school night. Like Shirley, she tended to respond well to the police chief. But instead, she scowled at him.

"Young lady? Young lady? You think I am just a little girl who needs help to take care of herself?" OK, maybe he miscalculated a bit on his approach. Time to step back a bit.

"No, that was just the character talking. I had to stay true to the role."

"You can't use that excuse every time, Abed. You think I can't take care of myself, that I am just a little girl?"  
OK, this was bad. She was projecting onto him, but he didn't have a clue what. It seemed like the plot had suddenly twisted on him. Maybe now it was a war film, and he was in the middle of an emotional minefield.

"No, I don't think that. You asked me for help! And I wanted to help! What is wrong?"

Annie scoffed at him. "Of course you wouldn't know when you are being patronizing. You're all grown up now, and little Annie is just being left behind!" She grabbed the mostly empty bottle of scotch and her glass and stormed off to her room. The lock clicked behind her.

Well, that went well. At least he was one for two on his first day of getting more involved. Better than he would have predicted this morning.

"Hey, Abed, could you do me a favor?"

"Sure, Troy. What?"

"Could you try not to make Britta mad when she comes by later? I'd rather not have two huffy girls in the apartment."

"I'll try, but no promises." Abed pulled out the DVD set he had just bought at Best Buy on his way home. "You want to watch Quantum Leap?"

"Sure. I think I finally got the 5/16 wrench figured out. I could use a break."

* * *

Author's note: Now time to post this before I decide to go back and change things more. I don't have a beta, so any faults are my own. Be sure to check out the first two chapters as well, they have been updated thanks to issues with chapter 4.

There are several other Community fics that I really like, and so from time to time you may see references to them in this story, in various forms.

Thanks to all who read, follow, and review. To answer a couple of questions, the chapters will shift viewpoint characters. Most of the time it will be Jeff, Annie, and Abed, at least for this arc, but other characters will get to take over from time to time.


	4. Dissension in the Ranks

_Troy and Abed in the Morning is Greendale Community College's top rated student created morning show, with tens of viewers. Started in 2009, the show has steadily grown from a mere morning talk show to include actual cameras. Expanding on that success has seen its share of bumps however, though nothing on the level of the Conan debacle._

_At one point, apartment executives attempted to upgrade frequent guest host Annie Edison to a full co-host, but the showrunners revolted. One went so far as to say "It can't be Troy and Abed and Annie in the Morning. Did you listen to yourself? The extra three syllables ruins the theme song, and makes it sound dumb!" Fortunately, a compromise was quickly reached, with Annie being given segments covering morning weather and traffic._

_An attempt to expand into the late-late-late-night slash really-early-morning market has also not been a ratings success, with many viewers wishing "You can shut up and go to sleep!" Talks with apartment executives about the future of the show have thus far gone poorly, and a twitter campaign was started by Jeff Winger to ban the hosts from using the telephone for show business has been gaining remarkable traction. Show hosts are looking into alternative options if necessary, including actually using cellular phones for their phone calls. Only the future will tell what the show will bring next._

_- Troy and Abed in the Morning, A three year retrospective. Published in Friends Weekly, Volume 2 Issue 3._

* * *

Jeff didn't try to hide his smirk as he walked into Group Study Room "JEFF." (previously Group Study Room F, but the Dean had added a few more letters to the window after being freed from Chang) As usual, Annie was the first one there, even at the god awful hour of eight in the morning. What was not usual though, was the fact that she was not perked up and smiling, with her laptop open and notes carefully arranged. Instead, her backpack was casually thrown on the table, and the woman herself slumped facedown on the table. She didn't even respond when he walked up next to her. **"Good morning!"** he greeted her, purposefully loud. She grumbled something and blindly swatted in his direction, hitting his leg in the process. **"Isn't it a lovely day, today?" **he added with a smile. Finally she sat up and glared at him with bloodshot eyes. "You're a mess, Annie." Normally neat and groomed, even under seeming impossible conditions, she looked like she probably felt. Clothes were rumpled, makeup a hasty job, and her normally silky smooth hair could only be described today as 'frazzled.'

"Whose stupid idea was it to have a study session this early in the morning?" she complained, blinking at the bright lights.

"Yours, I recall. Something about reinforcing lessons early in the morning so they set up better in our memory."

"Right," she groaned in defeat. "Well, then I blame me for this. And since when did you listen to things like that?"

"You'd be surprised. I may look like I am just focusing on my Blackberry, but in reality, I can play Words with Friends _and_ listen. And from the sounds of things, you have only yourself to blame for this little hangover."

"Britta's supposedly 'foolproof' hangover cure isn't working." Glancing over at him properly, she reached out and stole the the sunglasses hanging from his collar with a triumphant grin that quickly turned queasy.

"Hey, hey, those are Oakleys!" he protested. She carefully perched the slightly-too-large shades on her nose and simply pouted at him. "Fine, just...be careful with them. And seriously, you listened to Britta's advice on hangovers? Her sober-up-quick mix is practically lethal. And it doesn't work." She whimpered and he took pity on her, producing a bottle of water, some Advil, and a blueberry muffin. "Get some food and fluids in you, that will start to take the edge off."

"Thank you, Jeff! I had some coffee in addition to Britta's mix. I thought coffee was supposed to help. No luck so far. But how did you know?" She quickly gulped down the painkillers and half the bottle of water before starting in on the muffin.

"Nope, it makes you wired and even more dehydrated. And Abed texted me last night, so I kind of figured out what was going to happen. Been there before, plenty of times. So what made you decide to polish off that bottle of scotch?"

Her head snapped around to stare at him, and a frown crinkled her brow, but the glasses hid her eyes and he couldn't read her expression. "Are you just asking that to be nice, or..."

"Or what? Most people don't use an 18 year old single malt to drown their sorrows. So what's up, kiddo?"

"I'm not a kid, Jeff. You know that. And I asked because you don't do the talky thing. Especially the past few months."

Jeff was confused. It seemed he had blundered right into the middle of another one of _those_ types of conversations. Admittedly, he understood his side of things a little bit better, but things were still complicated, and she still could do a lot better than him. She saw something good in him that he wasn't sure was actually there, and her subtle and sometimes not so subtle attempts to mold him into a different, better person tended to be overshadowed by the fear that there was more of his father in him than Jeff wanted to admit. Annie deserved more, and/or better, but until he finally confronted his missing parent, he couldn't trust himself to take that step. And even with his therapist's help, he was barely able to explain it to himself, much less anyone else. And knowing Annie, if he did try to explain, not only would she wait for him, possibly throwing away other changes to be happy, but she would want to help. This was something he had to resolve himself, that had been festering for more than two decades. She had better things to do with her life than try to fix his.

The least he could do was tell her something, rather than brush her off yet again. "I know. You're right. I've been busy."

She scoffed in disbelief. "You've been _busy_? Doing what? studying for your History of Ice Cream class?"

"It's personal, OK?" His temper started to flare.

"Personal, huh? What's her name?" OK, now that was a low blow.

"Why, are you jealous?"

**"No, that's your thing! Being insane and jealous!"** Annie's voice was raised near shouting.

**"Why are we fighting? I brought you a muffin!"** he shouted back.

**"You think a muffin makes up for everything?"**

**"No, I just brought it to help the hangover and make you feel better! Why are we still shouting?"**

She deflated with a whimper. "I don't know. My head hurts, and I had a bad day yesterday. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"Apology accepted. And for future reference, don't trust Britta's 'all natural cures' for _anything._" Jeff was internally shaken by the sudden dust-up, but relieved that it had blown over just as quickly. Something was clearly going on, but the urge to move on and ignore it for now managed to win out. Barely. She looked more than just hungover though, she looked sad. Forlorn. That was the word. Since it was Annie, Jeff found himself about to open his mouth and do something stupid, like get her to talk about what was wrong. That path led to confusion and heartache and awkwardness, but he was wavering. The urge to finally try being honest with himself and her was growing stronger.

"Good morning, peeps!" Troy's arrival put the nail in the coffin of the urge to go ahead and tear off the band-aid and face the issue. Among other cliches. As expected, his arrival heralded that of Abed and Britta as well, who were arguing about whether or not X-Man was a real character. Evidently the trio had carpooled in Britta's car, as Troy's ATV barely fit him and Abed. "Aww, I interrupted something, didn't I?"

Hmm. Troy could be dangerously perceptive underneath that seemingly dimwitted exterior. Unfortunately, this perked Britta's interest. Passing grades or not, he didn't want her sticking her nose into his business again. And Annie still nursed a grudge about Britta's attempts to 'help' him at the Star Mitzva. "Ooh, what did you interrupt? Are they finally talking about...oof!" Abed poked Britta and wagged his finger at her. Oddly enough, that was all it took to shut her up. "Sooo then. Morning Annie. Feeling better? I told you that wheat grass lattes are great for curing hangovers!" Her attempt at cheerful was met by an outright glare by Annie, who had finally taken off her purloined sunglasses but made no move to return them.

Britta faltered at the stony reaction from the normally cheerful young woman. "It works when I have a hangover!" She responded defensively. Annie just rolled her eyes.

"It wasn't just the alcohol. It was _really_ hard to sleep last night. _Someone _was making a racket well into the night, despite other people living there having to wake up early."Four years ago, Annie would never have dared make that sort of insinuation. Three years ago she would have, but still would have blushed or whispered it. Today, however, she was evidently in a confrontational mood and resorting to Britta's own style of snark. Jeff tried not to move and draw Annie's attention back to him. Britta's jaw dropped as Troy winced, and Abed seemed to be searching his pockets for chocolates to hand out. Then he saw Britta catch a deep breath and her face set in the same indignant expression that heralded the start of a full on argument or start of a shouting match. Time for a diversion.

"Britta."

"What?" Four heads turned to look at him.

"You stayed over all night at the casa?" At this rate, it may soon become the Casa de Anntrobrittabed, which was way too long and hard to say.

"Yes, but it's none of your business. Why?" The building anger had faded, which was a relief. Not that he minded that Annie was standing up for herself or mad at Britta for something, but mixing that with a hangover and the study room had the potential to embroil the group in another 'toxic' argument, which he really did not want to deal with this morning. Too many other distractions. Dad search, job search, rent money search, now substitute teaching job and strange efforts at flirtation by the previously icy other Annie. Good thing the little boxes of Advil at the drug store included more than one packet, as Jeff was growing a headache of his own.

"Well, your pair of one eyed cats who can do anything, can they feed themselves?"

"Duhdoy! No, they don't have thumbs! But I learned from last time, and put out extra food and a Big Bang Theory DVD on repeat to keep them company last night." Troy gasped.

"Britta! How could you do that to your poor cats!" Jeff was lost by the remark, which seemed like Troy being Troy for a moment. But Britta seemed to know what he was talking about.

"What? They watch it with me when I am there!"

"Big Bang Theory is a _terrible_ show! Those cats will never be able to appreciate decent television again!"

"I like that show! And how dare you lecture me on decent television. You watch Temptation Lane after all!"

"Hey! I watch it too!" Annie interjected. Jeff groaned internally. So much for trying to quash the argument, in fact he had just altered and expanded it.

"Well, of course you do!" Britta shot back.

"What is _that _supposed to mean?" Annie was confused.

"You three live together. Of course you all watch the same shows!"

"Actually, Britta, I don't really like it." Abed corrected. "Not really a fan of the genre. No offense, Troy."

"Nah, it's cool." The duo did their slapping handshake to show there were no hard feelings on the issue.

"Temptation Lane? Ooh, I love that show!" Shirley's coo heralded her arrival in the study room, and just fanned more flames on the fire. Britta was quick to fire back.

"Really, Shirley? Doesn't seem like a very _Christian_ show, what with all the sex and the murder and the affairs and such!" Shirley's voice dropped in response.

"Well, Britta, I enjoy the characters. And if I really let the fact that they are damned to Hell stop me from watching the show or hanging out with them, I would not here, would I? I am quite capable of forgiveness and the hope that people's immortal souls can be redeemed, no matter how immoral they might be!" It got a response all around. Annie and Troy gasped in shock, Abed just blinked in surprise, and Britta sputtered, caught without a snappy comeback. As for Jeff himself, he picked up his Blackberry and started tapping away nonchalantly. He wasn't actually doing anything or texting anyone, just hoping that his studied indifference would keep him out of the brawl until it started to blow over and he could try wrapping it up with a speech.

"Jeff, what do you think?" Damn it, Abed! Of course it was him who would notice Jeff trying to stay out of the fray.

"Well, I _think_ that we should start going over the History notes, and not wait for Pierce to show up."

"You're avoiding the question." Why was Abed so fixated on this?

"What makes you think I have an opinion one way or the other?" He tried to hedge, but it was Shirley who took over the interrogation.

"Well, Jeffrey, you certainly seem to know enough about it when we discuss it at our lunches." Whoops. He had completely forgotten about that.

"Maybe I just remember what you say about it and then just repeat it back to you later." He was greeted with jeers by the group. "Hey, why am I the bad guy all of the sudden! I was minding my own business over here when you all decided to jump on me and get me involved in your little tiff!" It was not Troys turn to take over.

"Well, Jeff, we are curious why you think you are too cool to admit you watch Temptation Lane! You freely admit to watching the Kardashians shows, so what is it about this one that is so embarrassing to you?" Jeff now had the undivided attention of the room, including Annie, who was hiding a smile at his misfortune and still clutching his glasses. It was sort of cute, but she better not break them.

"OK, OK, fine. My mother watches it..." he was drowned out by more jeers at the apparent cop out. He raised his hand in a hushing gesture and they calmed down. "My mom watches it, and ever since I was little, I would watch it with her. It made us feel better to know that no matter how much things were screwed up at home, there were people who had even crazier lives. It made us feel more normal, even after my deadbeat dad finally left. And I still watch it, because it gives us something to talk about on the few occasions we talk on the phone. Fine? Happy now?" On one hand, it was a mix of both nerve-wracking and relaxing to open up to the group. On the other, it was a carefully calculated ploy. The reaction was what he hoped for. The trio of girls aww-ed simultaneously, Abed raised a calculating eyebrow, and Troy tried to hide the wiping away of a tear. The argument was forgotten, at the low low cost of him sharing a closely held private fact about himself.

The group sat in silence for a moment before the final member arrived. "Good morning everyone! What did I miss?" No one replied to Pierce, still recovering from the strange little fight. "Damn it! Were you voting on me again? I thought we were past that!" The old man leapt to the wrong conclusion. Troy was the one to answer.

"No, Pierce, no voting. We were discussing TV shows and it turned into an argument."

"Oh. OK then. Which shows?"

"Big Bang Theory for one."

"Lame." Britta stuck her tongue out at Pierce but otherwise did not respond.

"And Temptation Lane." Troy added.

"Really? I like that show! Did you know that I tried to submit a couple of scripts for them back in the 80's?"

"You did?" asked Shirley.

"Yeah. They were rejected though." Of course. "Probably because I wrote the characters too deep and realistic for a mere soap opera." Jeff snorted at this but held on to any snide comments.

"Well, it is their loss." OK, maybe not _all_ the comments.

"You really think so?"

"Sure Pierce" he responded. "Now can we get to the reason we are here? History?" Panning across faces, no one seemed exactly pleased with the idea of doing the work, even Annie, but there were no objections. He cracked open the textbook. "Ok then. Chapter 6?"

* * *

This time Jeff was merely putting some stuff away in his locker before she appeared before him. Annie Kim. Other Annie. Instead of complementing his clothes, she merely looked at him with a questioning quirk of the eyebrow behind her huge black geek glasses. "Can I help you?" he asked cautiously.

"Actually, yes. Do you think you could do me a little favor?"

"Depends on how much effort it will take" he answered back by habit. For his friends, he would do pretty much anything, but he would die before letting them know that. For his Annie, maybe even more effort than that. Annie Kim, who was merely an acquaintance, a rival and shallow copy of Annie, he wasn't sure. Other Annie had rubbed him the wrong way when they first met last year, but this year she seemed to be going out of her way to mend bridges with him for some reason. Either way, two Annies made for a confusing inner dialogue. Annie would remain Annie, due to seniority, but he needed a way to differentiate them in his thoughts. 'Other Annie' worked when talking, but it was too context sensitive, and probably not the best thing to call her if he slipped up and said it out loud. He settled on mentally dubbing her Kim. It was her last name, not offensive, still a girls name, and easy to keep separate in his thoughts and journal entries.

Kim was oblivious to his mental processes. "It's nothing major. Do you think you could ask Annie for a copy of her Tuesday notes from Int Law?"

The sentence made sense, but was lacking context.

"Huh? Why?"

"I missed class yesterday and wanted to make sure I was caught up on the lecture."

Well, that made sense, but still did not help with context.

"OK, but why Annie? You two don't exactly..." Jeff made a vague hand gesture, trying to word it carefully, "...get along. And why would she have notes for Int Law?"

Kim shrugged. "I'll admit that we can get a _little_ competitive." Jeff snorted at her own example of careful wordsmithing. "But she is the only other person in that class who puts as much effort into learning the material as I do." Finally the nagging question clicked into place for Jeff.

"Wait, Annie is taking International Law? With..." he snapped his fingers, trying to recall the course catalog he had skimmed a month back, "Gannet?"

"Yes." Now Kim looked perplexed. "You didn't know?" He shook his head. "I just figured, I mean you two are..." she trailed off with flapping hands trying to convey the point.

"NO. No, we aren't...we're just friends. Good friends." Well, maybe a tad more than that, but if he thought like that, he acted differently, and she read into things, and things got awkward. Besides, if they did decide to become more than friends, she would want it to be more than just sex (OK, so would he, probably), and he wasn't capable of that yet. Not without finding out why his dad had abandoned him, and if that inclination was somehow genetic.

There was a long silence before Annie Kim perked up. "Oh. Oh. Well then..." Then she beamed at him, a happy smile that morphed into something coy. At first glance, Jeff would have thought that Kim had a crush on him for some reason (well, he did look great and had great chemistry with people, so that could be the reason) but there was an appraising glint in her eyes that made her seem older. _I'm not sure I like where this is going._ Time to beat a quick retreat and regroup.

"I'll ask about the notes for you. Bye!" He turned and walked (fled) away, long legs eating distance. Why was all this weird crap happening now? Substitute teaching, Dad search, job search, one Annie cranky about something, the other seeming to be mooning over him, and not in the right order, either. Plus the planned Halloween party at Pierces mansion next month, and Troy and Abed were talking about going to some Inspector Spacetime convention. Jeff had a sinking feeling that none of it was going to be nice and simple. What exactly had he done to deserve this kind of karmic retribution?

* * *

Author's Note: Since Community follows an internal timeline, this story will too. This chapter is set Wednesday, Sep 25, 2012. Chapters 1-3 all take place Tuesday, Sep 24, 2012.

Next chapter will be Britta's turn to talk, then Chapter 6 will see the introduction of Molly Adner, who had a lot to say about the group last chapter.

I do not have a beta, so any mistakes are my own.

I do wish I could write faster, as I have plans for this story, and about 2-3 other decent sized story ideas in the pipeline. Can't wait for the show to be back in a few weeks, and hope for some good Jeff/Annie scenes (and no push for Annie/Abed. They work as friends, not as a romantically pairing)


	5. Battle Plans

_From the Desk of Dean Stephen Spreck. _

_At long last, it is time to elevate Greendale City College from being merely the best community college in the Greendale area to become the only community college in the Greendale area. It is past due that we stop tolerating Greendale Community College's siphoning off of valuable students, federal and state funds, and use of the GCC acronym and logo. To this end, a study was undertaken of GCC's many weaknesses and meager strengths. With the assistance of former GCC employee Benjamin Chang, we have identified where to strike. _

_Some may question the wisdom of dealing with Mr. Chang, and their fears have been taken into consideration. While City College was not in position to take advantage of the chaos caused during Mr. Chang's temporary administration of GCC, in return for not turning him over to authorities, he has agreed to provide everything he knows about the faculty, students, and campus. _

_The key, as it turns out, is to neutralize the so called "Greendale Seven:" Jeffrey Winger, Annie Edison, Troy Barnes, Abed Nadir, Britta Perry, Shirley Bennett, and Pierce Hawthorne. That group of students has had a disproportionate influence on GCC, including writing their school song, designing their school mascot and flag, and managing to thwart several attempts to bring down the school by various parties. Mr. Chang proved that with that group out of the way, GCC is virtually powerless to defend itself. _

_Unfortunately, many of the previous fracture points we could have used to split or distract the group are currently unavailable, such as Mr. Hawthorne's relations with the rest of the group, Mr. Nadir's mental fragility, or Mr. Barnes' transfer into the GCC AC Repair Annex. Therefore, we are focusing our attention on Mr. Winger, who serves as the group's de facto leader. We have already contacted legal professional Mr. Connor of Hamish, Hamlin, & Connor to exert pressure on Mr. Winger, as well as provided several GCC students with offers of money or assistance in transferring to more prestigious colleges in return for various efforts to distract and disorient Mr. Winger specifically, and the rest of the Greendale Seven more generally. _

_Once we have indications that these efforts are achieving results, we will move forward onto the next step of the plan..._

* * *

Britta barely turned the corner of the hallway before getting run down. Jeff appeared from practically nowhere, long strides eating distance until he ran into her, causing both to stumble. If she had been hungover, or Annie sized, she would have ended up on her ass. A quick grab at his arm arrested her fall, and she got a foot under her. "Hey! Watch where you are going, forehead!"

Jeff blinked at her, as if his mind had been elsewhere. "Oh, sorry Britta. You OK?" He didn't quite lose his distant look though, mind far away. She shook herself, recovering from the collision, and saw him zone out again and start to walk off. If he kept that up, he was going to run someone else down, so she poked him.

"Ow! Hey! What was that for?" She finally had his attention, and decided to take advantage of it.

"I had a question for you that I didn't want to ask in the study room." He opened his mouth to respond so she cut him off, knowing what he was about to say. "No, it does not require any effort on your part." Her eyes rolled in accompaniment. She slung around her backpack around on the one good handle. The other was tied together with an old necktie. If Dennis didn't need another cataract surgery, she would have bought a new backpack by now. Britta opened it and dug through it for a moment, before finally pulling out a stuffed penguin in triumph. "Is this one of Annie's stuffed animals?"

Jeff's eyes widened in recognition. "That's Quinn! What are you doing with Quinn?"

"Quinn?" she repeated in confusion.

"You know, Quinn the Eskimo, the old song? Never mind. Why do you have Quinn?"

Britta smirked at what Jeff had just revealed. "You are on a first name basis with Annie's stuffed toys? You are so whipped!"

A mix of emotions crossed his face before settling on haughty annoyance. "Just because I know what she names some of them does not mean I am on a 'first-name basis' with them." He glazed over the whipped comment, which Britta counted as a point scored.

"Really? What are some of the other ones' names?" Partially, Britta was curious, as while Annie was cutely proud of her collection of stuffed animals, not even Troy or Abed knew many of their names. The only one Britta herself knew was Bun-bun, a fluffy white rabbit that looked like Annie had owned since she was a toddler. The other reason of course was to needle Jeff, always a fun past-time. He tended to make fun of her about her major, or dedication to good causes, or the fact that she often got excited and let her mouth run faster than she could really think, so any opportunity to even the score was a good one.

"I only know some of them, but there's Nathan, Ruthie, Quinn there, Kirby, Joel, Oscar, Sambo, Wallace, Bun-Bun, Jacob, Ariel, and Waldo."

She took a second , surprised at how easily he listed off the names, and how he now looked rather embarrassed.

"Only _some_ huh? What, did you get invited to a tea party with introductions?" She should have thought a bit more before making that joke. Not only did it feed into chauvinistic notions of female behavior, it was an implied shot at Annie, a sure way to get Jeff's hackles up. And Britta herself had a few fond memories tea parties in her own youth, before a certain birthday party dinosaur and her father taught her that men were (mostly) scum, and that women need to take care of themselves, not pretend to have crumpets with stuffed toys.

"A tea party? Really? That's the best Miss Feminist can come up with? No, most of those are ones I gave her. So of course I know their names."

Jeff was just full of unexpected admissions today. While far beyond her abilities as a licensed therapist, (so was Abed too, admittedly) she was going to have to remember to take notes on this. Maybe combined with what she had walked into this morning in the study room, Jeff was about to finally get his head out of his ass and make a breakthrough on the Annie front. Then maybe she could stop feeling as guilty about her own personal progress and Troy. Still, a more pressing concern demanded attention.

"When did you give Annie stuffed animals? That's almost like a boyfriend-y thing to do." The urge to meddle in hopes of a reaction were too great to pass up, but Jeff was still distracted about something, and the remark didn't really register.

"Remember when the carnival thing came by last year? The one with your ex in it?" She grimaced at the memory. Locked doors, fake text messages, bananas with messages on them, and hurting Troys feelings made it far from her favorite event. She still kept the very sweet message Troy sent her, or she would have if that phone had not caught fire when she tried to check voice-mail. She waved for Jeff to continue.

"Well, I got a little _focused_ on figuring out Blade's secret, and ended up with a lot of stuffed toys that Shirley held onto for me. Later, she tried to give them back, but I'm clearly not the 'sleeps with a stuffed animal' kind of guy. So I told her to just give them to Ben, but the poor little guy is not allowed to have too many toys, so I still had a bunch of them left over to get rid of. I didn't want to just throw them away, and Annie likes stuffed animals and other cutsie things like that, so I gave them to her." He shrugged like it was a simple thing. No wonder Annie had mood whiplash when it came to Jeff. He could be a thoughtless tool most the time, but when it came to Annie, it seemed he could be surprisingly sweet without even realizing or trying. She bit back a touch of annoyance (maybe jealousy too) that Jeff could be so nice to Annie at times while not even trying, but was emotionally distant with Britta even when having sex with her.

She shook herself mentally, not wanting to go further down that path. "Right. So this _is_ one of Annie's stuffed animals."

"Yeah. What are you doing with it?"

Britta grimaced and stuffed it back in the backpack to try to hide it again. "I'm not sure. I think I picked it up when I was drunk last week or something. Do you think she will be mad that I took it?"

Now it was Jeff's turn to grimace. "Well, she is already mad at you over something, but your best option would be to just hand it to her and apologize."

"Wouldn't it be easier and safer just to put it back in her room next time I go to the apartment? She doesn't need to know I took it."

"Sure, you could try that, but what if Annie finds out later? Or if Abed figures it out and tells her?"

Britta shrugged and zipped the bag up, slinging it around onto a shoulder. "I doubt she would be any worse than if I just give it to her."

"You want to take that chance? Remember what happened when she first found out about you and me?" His hand went to his nose in remembered pain. "Or when she thought someone was stealing her pens? Or when Troy broke her Harry Potter prop wand and tried to hide it?" OK, point taken. For such a sweet, innocent looking girl, Annie could throw a spectacular tantrum or really hold a grudge. And she did seem to be a bit snappier towards Britta recently.

Thinking back, Annie seemed to start being grumpier about the same time as Britta had finally decided to hell with it and seduced Troy in an attempt to get his attention after her more subtle hints had failed. At the time she had been more concerned with Abed's reaction, as he and Troy were a mix between brothers and a married couple. She had wanted Troy to see what she was offering, while at the same time not trying to be a home-wrecker. Britta had figured that Annie was long over Troy, though to be fair the younger girl had kind of stolen both Vaughn and Jeff before. Well, sort of stolen Jeff. In the words of Abed, those two were complicated.

Britta was not really fond of complicated. When she could picture life as a series of power struggles, between men and women, dictators and subjects, mega-corporations and the common people, life was nice and black and white, without any of that annoying grey area that scummy people could hide in. Unfortunately, ever since Jeff had tried to con her with fake Spanish tutoring, things became difficult. On one hand, she had real friends now, and someone she trusted enough to actually open up to without fear that he was just going to take advantage of her then cast her aside. On the other, friends and relationships meant that every day was complex, confusing and complicated. If everyone else felt the same way, then suddenly things like war made a lot more sense.

"Is it just me, or has Annie been acting differently for a while now?" Jeff's question interrupted her musings.

"Yeah, actually. She's been quieter than usual, and according to Troy and Abed, has been skipping some of their usual things like movie nights and their morning show. I've been filling in for Annie's usual segments when I am there and she doesn't come out of her room."

"Wait, you're feeding into that nonsense now too? That's...never mind. So you think she is acting odd too? I never would have believed that _Annie_ would decide to finish off a third of scotch for no apparent reason. I knew she had a taste for it which is why I left it there, but I didn't expect her to kill it all in one go. That was an expensive bottle!"

"Yeah, even I have to admit that came out of nowhere." The morning had been a weird experience, finding Annie at the table slumped with bloodshot eyes and bird's nest hair. Britta had recognized the signs from bitter experience, and greeted her quietly, but Annie had alternated between ignoring Britta or simply glaring at her. As a peace offering, Britta had made up a cup of her organic hangover cure, a mix of wheat grass and a few other organic ingredients that tasted foul but was a natural way to cleanse the body of poisons. Annie had drank some, but then sneered at it and went to change. The young girl had left quickly after, eschewing her normal morning routine for a quick pass on her hair and a touch of makeup combined with a pair of jeans and a green hoodie in place of coordinated leggings, dress, and cardigan.

Britta had been relieved not to have seen any crashed blue Hondas on her own drive to the campus, but walking in on what seemed like the tail end of a fight between her and Jeff added to the feeling of unreality. "...you would do."

"What?"

"I said: finishing off a bottle of fine alcohol without bothering to appreciate it is more like something you would do. Were you not listening?" Jeff repeated the question, annoyed. He always got irritable when people didn't listen to the "master of speech."

"I was wondering what is wrong with Annie. Ooh, I know. I can look it up when I get home!"

"Britta, I got you that copy of the DSM ironically, not as an actual tool for you to misdiagnose people."

"Shut up, Mr. Narcoleptic Personality Disorder!"

"You mean narcissistic?"

"Whatever! Shut up!"

"Back on the topic of Annie acting weird, did you know she was taking International Law?" Jeff lowered his voice, which made Britta aware of the fact that they had both been getting louder as they fell back into their traditional bickering. She quickly followed suit.

"International Law? Why? What kind of hospital administrator major needs _International_ Law? And besides, when you get to the international level, most globocorps and intergovernmental agencies just twist the law for their own purposes!" She ended her spiel before Jeff had a chance to shut her down. "Well, she does like that sort of stuff, like Poly Sci and the Model UN stuff. Maybe it is her idea of a blow-off class?" She shrugged.

"Annie doesn't _do_ blow off classes. and why would miss 'let's compare schedules so we all know who is taking what classes for optimal study scheduling" be _hiding_ a class from everyone?"

"Maybe it is a fake class like your little Conspiracy course a few years back?" She didn't know much about how that had turned out, beyond the fact that Annie still remembered the time fondly. Britta had spent most of her time then discovering the appeal of a new club that had opened in Fluffytown with fantastic mixed drinks. She still remembered the recipes for how to mix a 'fuzzy comforter' and a 'blanket of joy.'

He shook his head. "No, it's not fake. I actually need to get a copy of Annie's notes from yesterday's class for someone. Actually, you know what? Give me Quinn." He reached out an expectant hand and Britta backed away, turning to keep her backpack away from him.

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because if I give her back Quinn, maybe she won't question me on the notes thing. I'll just explain what happened, get the notes, and everyone will be happy. Meanwhile, you can put Abed on the case of the secret class schedule."

Britta crossed her arms and backed up. "Why should I trust you not to throw me under the bus with Annie?"

He gave her a hurt look. "Would I really do that?"

"Yes." She didn't feel like listing any of the many, many times Jeff had lied, cheated, or manipulated people to get his own way. He was an ex-lawyer after all.

"OK, fine. Have I done that _recently?" _he tried again. That was a trickier question. While Britta had not been paying as much attention to Jeff the past few months (Troy's fault), he did seem like he was trying to be less of a selfish jerk. He also seemed to be more quiet, compared to his usual self.

"Fine." she grudgingly agreed and pulled the stuffed toy out of her bag and handing it to him, practically shoving it into his grip.

"Thanks Britta." He nodded at her and then took off again. While he was no speed daemon like Abed, Jeff could move quite fast when he wanted to, apparently.

* * *

"I just wanted to apologize for earlier." Britta was sprawled across one of the study room couches trying to take a nap when Annie found her. The words, combined with the fact that Annie was clutching Quinn under one arm were a good sign. Evidently Jeff had smoothed things out regarding the penguin, or else the younger girl would not be here. Sometime during the day, Annie had also taken the time to clean up a little, her hair pulled back into a cleaner ponytail, clothes smoothed out, and a touch more makeup applied. Britta twisted on the couch, sitting up and dumping her backpack on the floor to make room. She patted the space and Annie hesitantly sat down. The couch wasn't a women's bathroom, but at least it was currently private. Still, Britta tried to head off the whole touchy-feely apology thing.

"It's OK, Annie. Yes, you have been acting a little differently recently, but I know I get rather cranky too when I have a hangover. Speaking of which, I'm sorry about taking Quinn." Amazingly, the distraction worked and Britta managed to avoid a longer, awkward speech from Annie. Better to just be done with it and move on.

"I'm not very happy that you went into my room and took him without me knowing, but Jeff said you were drunk and really sorry about it." Britta nodded in agreement, and Annie continued. "So you are forgiven for kidnapping him. I've been missing some Green Day CDs as well though, do you mind looking for them? Maybe you took them when you decided to make off with my penguin." Britta wasn't sure if that was meant to be sarcasm or an accusation, so simply nodded again.

It was certainly possible. Unlike most of Annie's music library, which included things like Florence and the Machine, Jeremy Kay, Sarah Mclachlan, and the Tangled soundtrack, Green Day put out some pretty good songs. Both girls had been rather disappointed with the revelation that it was not the real Green Day coming to campus freshman year, but a knockoff with a similar name. A quick look inside her Discman and CD wallet didn't reveal any of their albums though, so Britta was left shrugging helplessly.

Annie pursed her lips and started to squirm, picking at the hem of her fleece. "What is it Annie? Are you OK?"

"I'm fine. It's nothing. Well, almost nothing. Has Jeff been acting weird to you?" OK, this was either deja vu, or something more important. She had a conversation earlier with Jeff about Annie acting weird, and now was going through the same thing, but in reverse.

"What do you mean?" She stalled, hoping she would not give away anything about the earlier conversation.

"I'm not sure. He's been acting strange the past couple months. Not coming to as many group things. Being quieter. Less mentions of his abs. That sort of thing."

"And a quieter, less ego-centric Jeff is a bad thing?"

"It's not just that!" Annie complained. "He's been paying more attention in classes, doing his own homework, not asking for copies of my notes as much!"

"Again, still not seeing the bad."

"It's like he is drifting away from the group. When people ask him what he is up to outside of class, he gets more evasive than usual. And he isn't paying as much attention to me...us...the group!" OK, that was definitely a Freudian slip. It wasn't like her crush on Jeff was a big secret, though Abed did explain that it was more complicated than it looked one day. He also warned both Troy and Britta that getting involved would "induce an unstable dynamic that may shift the genre into angst." Still, it was a therapist's duty to get to the heart of things like this and help their patients. While Jeff and Abed were beyond her capabilities right now, maybe she could help Annie.

Annie could not be that complicated. Overbearing parents led to overachiever led to stress led to pills. Jeff started as an older/father figure then became sexually attractive to her as she grew out of her repressed younger self that had been conditioned by her own parents (mainly her mother, who Annie tended to complain about more than her father). It was a simple electric complex, between her upbringing under her mother, and Jeff, who represented a different, more mature life, one with a toned body and charismatic smile. And while he could be a smug self-centered idiot, he did usually keep on somewhat better behavior around Annie. Most of the time. Better than when Britta was with him at least, and Annie had not even slept with the guy (yet? Britta wasn't positive, but didn't think so). Maybe if she could help Annie, then together they could help Jeff and he could be cured, adding a decent human being to the world instead of merely a hipster ex-lawyer.

"Britta?"

OK, she really needed to stop monologuing in her head. Spending time with Troy tended to mean spending time with Abed as well, and some of his strange was wearing off on her. Annie seemed to pick up more of their enthusiasm and crazy, while Britta was stuck with their weird.

"I, uh, really hadn't noticed."

Annie scoffed. "Well, no surprise there. You know, just because you and Troy are having sexy-times now," she made air quotes as she said that, "doesn't mean other things aren't going on. Or not going on. Or maybe are going on in secret." Danger Will Rogers, danger!

"Something tells me this is about more than just acting distant." Britta guessed.

"When Jeff came by to give me Quinn earlier, you know what he also asked me for?"

"Umm, copies of notes?" She vaguely recalled something about that when talking to him herself earlier.

"Yes! Copies of notes for a class he isn't taking, but I am!"

Jeff had mentioned Annie taking International Law, but in secret. Britta was curious if Annie would admit to it. "What class?" she asked innocently.

"That's not important!" Interesting. "Do you know who he was getting the notes for?"

"No." Jeff hadn't said.

"They are for _other-Annie_," Annie practically hissed. The name didn't really ring a bell.

"Who?" Britta asked in confusion.

"Other-Annie! You know the girl who is kind of like me, but is a bit younger, a bit shorter, and pure evil?"

"Still not really ringing a bell."

"Really? She stole my idea for the Model UN club, took my place on the Greendale debate team, and likes to act like she is better than me and knows more than me in the classes we share!"

"Still nothing."

"She started trying to compete with me about the time you decided to 'rage against the machine' again, and got tased by Chang." Heh, good memories. So maybe her protest had not turned into a major movement (neither did her attempt at 'Occupy Greendale' either) but getting tased and locked up in the security office for a night had relieved a lot of guilt about having highlighters while friends were getting arrested. Britta was perfectly able to get arrested herself if she wanted to!

"Right, I vaguely recall her. Sort of like you, but Asian? And didn't Pierce make Pearl Harbor jokes for a week afterwards?"

"Annie Kim is nothing like me! She's uptight, smug, competitive, and has to get things her way!" Britta held up her hands in a gesture of surrender.

"OK, I'm sure she is nothing like you. But what is so bad about giving her a copy of your notes?"

"Because Jeff tried to hide who they were for!"

"What do you mean hide?"

"Well, he asked for a copy of the notes to give someone, but didn't say who they were for. But other-Annie was the only person who missed class Tuesday, and no-one else in that class puts in enough effort to want _my_ notes." Britta could see that reasoning. Annie did take incredibly detailed notes of everything in class, including questions by students and their answers. That was in addition to her little voice recorder. But it seemed that Annie was blowing this out of proportion.

"Well, Annie, did he say they were for the other Annie?"

"Well, no, but..." Britta cut her off, pressing on.

"And did you ask him if they were?"

"No, but even if I did, he would have denied it."

"And why would he deny it?"

"Because other-Annie and I don't get along, and he knows that."

"So you are reacting badly, due to the fact that he didn't tell you, because he knew you would react badly?" Britta clarified.

"I...huh. You might be right. Maybe I was just over-thinking things. Thanks Britta!" It was like a switch had flipped, and for the moment, Annie was her normal cheerful self again. It may be an act, but Britta preferred to count it as a victory. She was getting pretty good at this therapist thing. "Are you coming over again tonight?" Annie asked.

"No, I have work in a couple hours." Britta had found a job at a local florist. While having to deal with men who only wanted flowers as tools to get sex or apologize for jackassery rankled, and some of the professional florists looked down on her for calling the stupid flowers what they were rather than phony made up names, it was easy work and the pay was pretty good. "Besides, Troy has practice tonight anyways."

"Practice?" Annie wondered.

"Yeah, football, remember?" Annie blushed in response.

"I kind of forgot he was still doing that." Britta tried not to laugh.

"Where did you think he was going in the evenings? You live with them!"

"Hey! Just because I live there doesn't mean I know everything about Troy and Abed. Abed usually goes with him, so I just assumed they were doing movie stuff, or hunting down the Joker or something. And recently, I figured he was meeting up with you!" She crossed her arms defensively. "So you aren't coming over tonight?"

"No, not tonight. Why?" Annie favored her with a wicked grin that she had probably learned from Jeff.

"Good. It means it will be quiet enough to get _some_ sleep tonight." It took a moment for the jibe to sink in.

"Hey! Not funny!" Annie giggled at the sour expression on Britta's face. "When a man treats a women well, it's only natural to get a little...vocal. You'll see sometime!" Annie's face darkened momentarily at that, but then it passed and she returned to teasing Britta. It was a good sign. Both Jeff and Annie were right. They were both acting a little out of character. But for now, Annie was in a better mood and the fight that morning seems to have passed. She wasn't going to look at the gift horse.

* * *

She was getting ready to drive home and see what damage her cats had done to the apartment before heading off to work when Abed waved her down.

"Britta! Good! I've been looking for you!"

"What for, Abed? And I have to go home and change before work tonight." Ne nodded and fell into step beside her.

"That works for me. Walk and talks are more visually interesting anyways. You talked to both Jeff and Annie today after the morning study session?" Britta nodded as they turned a corner. Down the hall, someone who looked a lot like Starburns but blond was trying to use a washer with a string attached to jimmy the pay water fountain.

"Yeah, I did. What about it?"

"Well, for one thing, I'm glad you finally gave back Annie's stuffed animal, even if you got Jeff to do it for you." She glanced at him in annoyance.

"I didn't get Jeff to do it for me! It was his idea! And wait, you knew I had Quinn?" He nodded.

"Quinn is the penguin. Thanks. I'll have to write that down. And I knew you took it, but I was curious as to when you were going to admit it and give it back." She rolled her eyes.

"So how did I do in your little experiment?" Abed wasn't phased.

"Pretty well. Three days sooner than I predicted, but there was also a chance you would just put it back and pretend you never took it." He nodded in approval.

"If you knew I took the penguin, do you know what happened to Annie's Green Day CDs?" she asked hopefully. He shook his head in response.

"No, sorry. I'm pretty sure you don't have them though. My best guess is either the landlord downstairs again, or maybe Pierce mixed them in with the Elvis and Monkees CDs he brought the other week when he was in charge of the music." It made sense. It was certainly less surprising than Pierce's music selection had been. Although dated, it had been remarkably inoffensive, and even Shirley had been fully approving of the choice.

"You may want to ask him about it next time you see him. Annie has been looking for them, and if you are waiting to see when Pierce is going to return them, I doubt he even knows he has the things." She sidestepped quickly as the water fountain responded to the attempt to cheat it with an over-pressured stream of water that splattered several less fortunate students. "And if you are trying to keep track of Annie's stuffed toys, try asking Jeff. He seems to know the names of a bunch of them."

Abed quirked an eyebrow. "Interesting."

"That's what I thought too."

"Britta, don't meddle." She stopped walking and turned to face Abed.

"What? I wasn't...why not?" His face was inscrutable as always.

"Doctor Connor wants me to start trying to help my friends, even if I don't have the simulations all down yet. So I'm starting with you. Don't meddle with Jeff or Annie."

"How is that considered _helping_?" she asked him, confused. "They have both been acting weird recently, so why shouldn't I try to help get things back to normal if I can?"

"You know as well as I do that if things were simple, the two of them probably would have gotten together at the end of the first year here, or maybe sometime last year. But their character arcs are not simple, and I've noticed that the two of them are acting differently as well. Admittedly, we have all changed, especially over last summer. Even Pierce. Well, maybe not Shirley as much. But that is not the point. Things are different now, and while you did help me to deal with the idea of people graduating this year, and I trust you not to intentionally hurt Troy, you don't have the skills to meddle with those two safely."

Britta tried to storm off in annoyance, but the walking stick easily kept up pace. "Oh, so you can meddle and I can't?" she shot at him, annoyed that he had ruined a good storm off.

"No, it's beyond me too. It's the type of situation where we are just going to have to let it resolve itself. Usually in cases like this, if friends try to get involved and take sides, they just make things worse due to miscommunications and dramatic irony. If we want to help them, we have to not help them, and instead keep anyone else from getting involved. One wrong person gets tangled up in things, and rapidly miscommunications can lead to everyone involved getting hurt."

While Abed's logic seemed to be coached in the ideas of sitcoms, he had an earnestness to him that broke through his usual distance. Britta had evidently helped him a lot, as this time last year Abed would already be picking out camera angles for a potential relationship drama, rather than trying to avoid it. OK, maybe the professional therapist Jeff had dragged him to had helped some, too.

"So what, you want me to avoid them from now on?"

"No, no, that would be just as bad. Just keep your distance, but don't _look_ like you are keeping your distance. I don't know, act casual."

"I know that quote!" She interjected excitedly. "It's from Star Trek!" Abed opened his mouth, but Britta beat him to it. "No, wait, it's the other one."

"Star Wars. Return of the Jedi."

"That's it!" She was surprised when Abed held his hands out in the usual Trobed handshake. After a second of hesitation, she matched him and uncertainly followed his lead in the slapping/clapping motion. Troy had tried to teach her how to do it before, but she had given up after learning that his motivation was mainly that it made her boobs jiggle when she did it. It took two days to forgive him for that. And an edible arrangement that looked like flower baskets but were made of fruit instead. Both had agreed that the concept was brilliant.

They ended the handshake and Abed nodded at her. "Have fun at work. And can you keep me up to date on what you observe about the two? Even minor details could be important."

"You do the same." They were at the exit, so she turned and walked out into the parking lot while he headed the other direction. It had been a strange day so far. Hopefully a relaxing evening of showing off her flower arranging skills to the snobs at work would balance out the day.

* * *

Author's Note: This story is the last to take place on Wed, Sep 25. The next one is going to jump ahead a few days, though it's likely the story will continue to lag behind the actual date. Next chapter is the introduction of Molly Adner, an OC who provides a viewpoint from outside the group that is very fun to write. Also, Teacher!Jeff makes his first appearance.

Here and there in this story I am throwing in references to not only the spoilers for the upcoming season, but some other fanfics that I have read and really liked. A few stories I will treat as actually happening as far as this story is concerned, other stories will be referred to in different ways.

As for the upcoming season, I hope for some progress on the Jeff/Annie front, and may borrow some things from the show, but this story is effectively an AU that takes place after 3.22

As usual, no beta so any mistakes are mine. Thanks to the people who pointed out several in previous chapters. I went back and fixed them, so now I can pretend they never happened :D

Update Note: I had it pointed out to me by a friendly guest that Dean Spreck forgot about Shirley. Oops. Also, while the dramatic possibilities are there, The Mr. Connor the lawyer that Spreck mentions is _not_ the same as Doctor Connor, Abed's therapist. I named the doctor before realizing that Alan had the same last name, but it was too late.


	6. Enemy Contact

_Journal of Annie Edison, Saturday September 29, 2012_

_This week has been full of ups and downs. It had started with a couple of bad shifts at the clinic I'm interning/working at. Pediatrics was supposed to be fun, dealing with kids and making them feel better. But it's sad to see kids when they are sick and crying, and frustrating to deal with parents who are scared or angry, or worse don't seem to really care. Every time I have a patient ask me if their child is really sick or just faking to get out of school, I think of Mother and have to repress the urge to yell at them or hit them. There are good moments though, when you can patch up a child and then they smile at you, happy again. That's why I want to go into hospital administration, to be able to do that for people. Still, setting up classes so I could look into law as a backup is just prudent. It was a lot of fun, and can be really interesting. Shirley has been letting me borrow her crime shows and books. Sometimes when Troy and Abed think I'm in my room studying, I'm really reading a book by Grisham, Connelly, or Castle. And Shirley is right. Law and Order and NCIS are both great shows. I'm not as big a fan of the Mentalist as she is though. _

_Speaking of Shirley, I love her and Pierce, but I'm getting really tired of having to be in the middle of their little fights over the sandwich shop. Things got better for a while after they changed the name to Pierce and Shirley's Sandwiches, but still, it's like every little thing is something to fight over! They've started a rather successful business, and all they do is complain about it! 'Oh, I've accomplished all sorts of good things with my life, but I'm not happy with it, so I'll just fight and drag Annie into it when she should be trying to accomplish things on her own!' That's them. _

_Speaking of moving on and accomplishing things, everyone else in the group has been doing it except for me. Troy and Britta have been together for more than a month now, and while I think they do look cute together, I still can't help but be a little jealous that Britta, miss men are evil, seems to be in a stable relationship when I can't manage it myself. It's not fair. Stable also makes me think of Abed. Ever since Jeff took him to Doctor Connor, he has been acting a bit more normal. He's been less scary weird and more funny weird recently, and even has had moments of normal. Not Abed-normal, but normal-person normal. And not as an act or sarcastically. I'm proud of him, but again wish I felt like I was making progress. _

_Then of course, on the no progress front, there is Jeff. I had another dream with him in it last night. I had decided to go on a trip to London, and for some reason he was there too when I got there. He was really sweet, and let me take him on a bunch of touristy things without grumbling too much, and before too long we kissed again, and ended up sharing a hotel room. We finally did it, and it was great. And then there was something about Paris, but I woke up all sweaty and frustrated. I've been having a lot of dreams like that lately. But real Jeff has been almost the complete opposite. I mean thanks to Abed I finally realized that having a crush on him was kind of childish, as was thinking I could change him. But still, I love him just like I love the rest of my friends, and if he would get over some of his stupid hang-ups about relationships, I could see going on a date with him would be a lot of fun. _

_Too bad he has been acting more and more distant recently. He's been sort of avoiding me and the others, says he has a 'project' he has been working on. This week was really bad though. I drank the rest of the scotch he left at the apartment, and then we got into a fight the next morning. Later, he gave me back Quinn, who Britta had stolen, and asked for a copy of my International Law notes to give to other-Annie. He didn't even say anything about me taking the law class, when before he always tried to discourage me from law classes and being more like him. I tried talking to Britta about it, but she said I was over-thinking things. And now I have been hearing rumors that Jeff is a substitute teacher for a class here? Since when would he put in that sort of effort for anything but himself, or me if I guilt him into it? And why wouldn't he tell me? _

_Well, Abed and Troy are calling, they want me to watch Leverage with them. I hope next week is better_.

* * *

Molly Adner slipped into her seat next to her friend, Annie Kim. As usual, Annie was wearing a carefully selected dress and cardigan, sitting up straight with notes carefully arrayed in front of her. Molly herself was practically an exact opposite. She was still delighting in the college experience, enjoying the ability to show up for class dressed in a pair of flannel sleep pants and tank top, hair tied back in a messy ponytail. She was barely wearing shoes, if you could even call a cheap pair of Crocs knockoffs 'shoes'. The two friend's personalities were also quite different. Annie was ambitious and driven, precise and impatient. Molly was laid back and relaxed, preferring to attend the various TV and movie marathons held by various campus groups in place of Annie's participation in something like a dozen academic clubs. Molly was constantly amused at all the strange goings on at Greendale, and the crazy stories Annie had told about previous years, like paintball tournaments, St. Patrick's Day picnics, and crazy ex-teacher ex-student ex-security guard lunatics. Annie barely hid her annoyance at the shenanigans, repeatedly wishing aloud that Greendale could be a more 'respectable' school. Molly and Annie Kim had become unlikely friends, however, when a hall orientation exercise had revealed that both the wide-eyed new student and the older but barely taller RA had both come to Greendale due to a lack of other options.

Molly had not planned on going to college at all after her single father, a firefighter, had been injured and put on disability. But the low prices of Greendale combined with some scholarships and grants she qualified for meant that she actually _earned_ money coming here, which was a claim she had seen in the commercial but not thought possible. Thus Molly not only made money to support her father, but got to do it in a place with easy classes where she could wear her pajamas to class and no-one would care. It was a win-win scenario as far as she could see, especially compared to the college horror stories about stress and hard work from her cousins going to places like William and Mary, UCLA, and MIT.

Annie was at Greendale due to being barred from every other school she had tried to apply for. From the few details the older girl had told Molly, she had been in exclusive private schools and was destined for somewhere like Yale until a scandal involving her investment banker parents and something to do with the near-banking collapse a few years back had somehow ended up with both parents under investigation and Annie herself blacklisted from any decent schools. A kindly aunt here in Colorado had taken her in, and after numerous rejections, a desperate application to Greendale had been accepted. Now she planned to earn credits while the incident with her parents blew over, then hopefully transfer to a 'real' college or grad school.

As for the class, both took it for different reasons. Annie needed it for her Poly-Sci major, and had been mortified that Professor Speakensai was not an actual legitimate instructor. (Molly was nearly positive that Annie had been the one to rat him out.) As for herself, it had been a more 'educational' type class to balance out having chosen Billiards. (The old man teaching that class was kind of creepy on his insistence on uniforms to play, but at least he was a real gym instructor.) Upon finding out the professor was a fraud, Annie had been furious, ranting about second rate schools with terrible faculties. She had disappeared, and next time they showed up for public speaking class, the bald dean with the high voice had come in and informed them that Speakensai was suspended, and a replacement in the process of being hired, but until then a substitute teacher would be arranged for the class.

Molly wondered who it would be. The potentials were nearly endless. Greendale was a refuge for students who had no other place to go, but the same was true of the teachers. Her psychology teacher was knowledgeable, but typically drunk. There was an accounting teacher that she had seen climbing trees on her way to class earlier. Speakensai in retrospect simply had not cared, as he had alternated between reading chapters of the book out loud and simply having the class watch famous speeches on YouTube, but that seemed par for the course here. Her answer chose that moment to walk through the door. He was incredibly tall, with a huge forehead and a few lines on his face that spoke of an easy smile. The man was dressed stylishly but casually, with nice slacks and a blazer that spoke of style, wealth, and ego. There was a confused muttering from other students that told her the man was familiar to them, but Molly didn't recognize him at all. She turned to ask Annie if she knew who he was, and saw her wearing a satisfied smirk. Before she could ask, the old guy who sat in the back, Pierce, spoke up.

"Jeff, what are you doing here?"

The tall man dropped a backpack onto the chair of the teacher's desk and turned to glance at the questioner. "Pierce, I am here as a temporary replacement for the lunatic who was just fired for pulling a Chang."

The old man was not phased at all. "So _this_ why you changed the topic when I brought up Speakensai getting fired at the group!"

"Yes, Pierce, because I would have _loved_ to spent an hour explaining why I am now a temporary substitute teacher. Remember I temporarily have the power to fail you, so play nice."

Pierce rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I don't actually need this class, I just sign up for it every year because I enjoy it. Ask Shirley!" The banter was interesting, but went over Molly's head. Both metaphorically and literally. The tall man, Jeff, focused on the rest of the class and addressed them instead of responding to Pierce again.

"As most or all of you have figured out, I'm your temporary teacher for Public Speaking until someone with real credentials is hired. I'm Jeff Winger, former attorney at law and now fellow student and your lord and master. Ordinarily, I could care less about actually doing work, much less agreeing to _teach_ here at Greendale, but fortunately for you all, I pride myself on the ability to make speeches. That talent earned me a very well paying job as a lawyer, and many other fringe benefits besides. Unlike most topics taught here at Greendale, speech is one that will actually come in handy in your lives. So consider it lucky that I find the thought of passing on even a fraction of my skills to you all to be both entertaining and appealing to my ego. My goal is to try to teach you knuckleheads something you can use in the real world before I leave. Those of you hoping for more book reading and Youtube videos, well, you should look up Duncan's Psych class instead."

Molly decided quickly that she liked him. While he was kind of odd, he also had an intensity to him that made her _want_ to learn. Next to her, Annie still had her smirk going. Evidently she was pleased by the choice of substitute. Mr. Winger settled in, leaning against the desk up front.

"OK, for starters, can anyone tell me what, if anything, you all have learned so far?" Molly's hand shot up, hoping to make a good impression on the new teacher. No one else did, however, not even Annie who usually had an answer for everything. "OK, looks like the floor is yours, Pipsqueak."

"Why am I a Pipsqueak! That isn't very nice!" Molly demanded. Mr. Winger shrugged.

"Well, this class seems to have a superabundance of short brunettes, and until I learn people's names, I'm just going with whatever first comes to mind." It was annoying, but Molly did have to admit that she and Annie were the two smallest girls in the class. Especially compared to say, Erin, who sat a couple rows back and was like basketball player tall, nearly as tall as Mr. Winger in fact. He continued. "Actually, I'm a tad curious. Is there some reason I don't know about for why this class is like ninety percent female?"

Molly turned in her seat to glance at the rest of the class and saw them doing the same. It was weird. The fact that out of a class of a little over forty-ish people there were only six guys had never really registered until someone pointed it out.

"I have an answer for that!" Pierce called from the back. Mr. Winger winced.

"No, no you don't, and even if you do, I don't want to hear it. Back to where we were. Pip, you were going to tell us what the class has learned so far?"

Well, Pip was kind of an improvement. Maybe? She sat up a little straighter and raised her voice slightly so people could hear better. "So far we have covered the three kinds of speeches- informative, persuasive, and entertainment, and how a speech is made up of three main parts- introduction, body, and conclusion, just like written paper. We spent a lot of time watching famous examples of great speeches by people like Churchill, Kennedy, and Reagan...on Youtube." she hesitated a bit at the last given the teacher's recent comment against it. "We also read through the chapter on body language," she added, seeing him cross his arms.

"That's all you guys did in a month?" he asked.

"Well, we watched a lot of speeches?" Molly responded hesitantly. Mr. Winger rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath.

"And I thought Advanced Breath holding was bad." He blinked and then stood up and pointed at her. "OK, may as well start now. This is a _speaking_ class, so you all are going to be doing that from now on. Pip, want to come up in front and give one?" Now? Off the cuff? In front of everyone? She shook her head. He frowned at her. "It's not for a grade, just to get people used to actually speaking in public, i.e. the whole purpose of this class. You did OK just now with the class summary, just repeat that," he coaxed. She shook her head again. "Stage fright?" he asked.

"No, not exactly."

"Then what?" he asked, starting to get annoyed.

"I'm in my jammies," she blushed. Comfortable and college-y sure, but having to stand up in front of everyone in her tank top and fleece pants would be highly embarrassing. Of course, everyone had just heard her make that admission, which was nearly as bad, and her face went from a blush to bright crimson. There were some chuckles from other students, while Mr. Winger brought a palm up to his face and muttered something about freshmen. Then she heard Pierce's voice , and a number of disgusted gasps. It was probably for the best that she missed the comment. Knowing Pierce, it was wildly inappropriate. She hadn't made much of an effort to get to know him though, or really anyone else in the class besides Annie. Sure, he kind of reminded Molly of one of her great uncles, or the guy from Caddyshack, but he also seemed to delight in being inappropriate, and his enthusiasm for his Laser Lotus cult grated against her Catholic upbringing.

"Pierce, knock it off. Everyone else too." Mr. Wingers voice was raised in annoyance. He then looked at her questioningly, and she nodded her head. She was all right. No real harm done. The class settled down, and he pointed at Annie next. "Kim. Ten bucks says you have a speech ready to go in your head right now." Kim? Why Kim? Her name was Annie...Kim. Oh. It seemed that Mr. Winger knew Annie too, but for some reason was on a last name basis with her. Odd.

The girl in question pursed her lips, then smiled brightly at the teacher and stood up. "Sure. Do I have to choose a specific topic?" Annie's voice was slightly friendlier than her usual precise tone, and Molly could count on one hand the times she had smiled at someone. Maybe after class she would have to ask her friend if she was flirting with Mr. Winger. Sure, he had a Seacrest charm, but he was, well, _old_. The most Molly would go for would be some one within say five years of herself. Molly shrugged and decided to ask (probably tease too) Annie about it later.

* * *

Friday's class started much the same way as Wednesday's did, with Molly dumping her backpack on the table in front of her and sliding into the cheap molded plastic seat next to Annie. Both were dressed differently, however. Burned by the pajama incident last class, Molly had graduated to a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt printed with Fluttershy saying yay on it. High fashion it was not, but it was a compromise between wearing real clothes to class and being comfortable. The Crocs stayed though. Late nights attending every club and activity Greendale had to offer meant that when she did wake up just in time to rush to class, shoe-laces were too much of a hassle.

Where Molly had dressed up (relatively speaking) Annie Kim had dressed down, sort of. The poster girl for prim and proper (though Molly did see at least one other girl who regularly wore the same type of outfit in the halls) had traded the cardigan and sun dress for a deep crimson fitted top and a mid length skirt that looked kind of like leather. She had also traded her normal glasses for some contacts, and was wearing more makeup than usual. She looked more like the cover of Cosmo than the academic overachiever that was her friend. It wasn't hard to guess that the new look was entirely for Mr. Winger's benefit.

Molly had indeed asked if her friend had a crush on their substitute teacher/fellow student, but Annie had denied that it was a crush and then became rather evasive on the whole subject. If she wanted to chase after the freakishly tall ex-lawyer, that was her business. It left more of the other meager choices of datable guys for her. When the school's male population had an average of like fifty, and many of the men in the age appropriate end of that average were already taken, pickings were frustratingly slim. It wasn't like Molly was _looking_ for someone, exactly, but after breaking up with Pete at the end of High School, she had sort of been looking forward to the 'meet a nice guy' part of the college experience.

This class was a good example of the problems she faced. It was mostly female, and from what she could tell, about half were single. They were all taller than her, and Molly had to admit bitterly that some of them were much hotter than she was. No, she wasn't mad about being rejected for the cheerleaders squad. The only thing that Kendra-with-a-Qu, sitting three rows back, had that Molly didn't was about a foot of height. As for the male element of the class, well. There was Pierce, who was right out. Magnitude (she didn't think that was his real name), who somehow got a round of applause for ending a short speech with a "pop pop" and raise the roof gesture. Eric, who played football and was kind of a letch. There was Subway, a living billboard who Molly had learned was there because of a deal between the sandwich place and the college last year, even though the Subway that had been here was now gone. Garrett, who was...well Garrett. She would have more pity for him if his voice wasn't so grating, like fingernails on a board. And finally James, a cute, decent guy who was only two years older than she was, but was also married and expecting twins with his wife. Her other classes may be more gender balanced, but the choices there were not much better.

Maybe those contemplations were why she noticed the additional person to trail into the classroom along with Pierce today. He was tall, but slightly shorter than Mr. Winger. While the subject of Annie's attention was older, with a light tan and easy smile, the new arrival was naturally mid-toned, lanky, and almost like a bird, gazing around the room with alert eyes as Pierce was rambling something about mascot ideas. The new arrival was not a complete unknown, as she had seen him in the halls, usually accompanied with one of the black football players (the one called T-Bone maybe?). He also was part of a couple of the TV and movie groups she had been to, somewhat aloof but quick with quotes or observations on whatever was selected to watch. Molly poked Annie and pointed at the new arrival.

"Who is that?" Annie gave him a quick glance.

"That's Abed, part of Jeff's study group. Why?"

"What study group?" Annie frowned at her in slight incomprehension.

"Really, Molly? You haven't heard about the Study Group by now? The one the Dean fawns over in his PA announcements?" Molly shrugged in response.

"I never pay attention to those. And I know there are like twenty different study groups, what makes this one so special that you have to say it like it has capital letters?" Annie just rolled her eyes.

"I'm surprised you lasted this long at Greendale without hearing about the study group. It's a group of students including Jeff, Abed, Pierce," she waved at the latter two as she said their names, "Troy Barnes, Britta Perry, Shirley Bennett, and other-Annie." Her face hardened as she said the last. Molly didn't really recognize the names beyond some of the banter the other day between Mr. winger and Pierce, but by her expression Annie didn't much care for this 'other-Annie.' Oh, maybe 'other-Annie' was the reason Mr. Winger called Annie 'Kim.'

"So what is so special about this group?"

"Well, the study group is also called the Greendale Seven." A bit more comprehension struck Molly at that. She sort of recalled some stories about their involvement in the crazy security guard thing last year. Annie continued. "For some reason, they are almost like the center of attention in this place. They tend to be involved with most of the random things that happen at this college."

"I thought that you said you didn't like the weird stuff that happened here?"

"I don't. I wish this place was more professional, more like a real school and less like a joke." Despite the glamorous makeover, Annie was still herself.

"Well, if this study group is so involved in the things you don't like here, why do you like Mr. Winger? That doesn't make sense to me." Annie's jaw snapped shut, the question catching her off guard. She took a moment then responded carefully.

"It's complicated. Short story is that I didn't really like him when I first met him. Other-Annie got him involved when I was trying to start up the Model UN club here, and we didn't get along all that well." That sounded like an interesting story, so Molly made a note to ask more about it later. "But since then, some things changed. He has some appealing sides to him."

"You mean you think he's hot!" Molly teased. Annie sniffed in feigned offense, but gave a faint grin that confirmed the accusation was basically true.

"I have some other reasons too. He's somewhat older, sure, but he was a lawyer, so maybe if I can convince him to go on a date, I might get to go somewhere nicer than Denny's. Enjoy a few of the nicer things for just a little while. I haven't had a proper steak in ages." Molly had to shrug at that. If Annie's real reason for pulling out the sexy act was to score a date that reminded her of better times, she could understand that. Sure, Annie didn't really seem like the 'sugar daddy' type, but on the other hand, she _was _more than just the uptight academic snob that she presented to the world most of the time. Molly's mother would have been shocked at the mere idea, and been aghast that Molly would consort with such people much less call one a friend, but she was long gone and Molly's religious beliefs were mostly focused on the general aspects of Catholicism, rather than the specifics.

Besides, with Annie bringing up the subject of dating, Molly could gently change the topic and ask the question she was interested in.

"What about Abed?" Oh, wow, smooth move Adner, she scolded herself. Fortunately Annie responded to the sudden change of topic with a knowing smile.

"Well, he is kind of strange, and not the most sociable person in the world. He spends most of his time with the study group or with Troy, the two are kind of a pair." A pair? Like a couple? If Troy was the football player she was thinking of, she could see it, unfortunately. That was highly disappointing. Annie must have seen Molly's face fall, and smirked at her. And maybe read her mind too. "As far as I know, Abed is single." Molly's eyes widened. "And no, I can't read your mind." They widened further. How did she... "My great grandmother had a gift for seeing things." Molly gasped in shock.

"You mean you can..." she started to ask in wonder, but stopped when she saw Annie trying not to laugh.

"I'm sorry, but your expression was worth it."

Molly crossed her arms and huffed in annoyance. "It wasn't funny." OK, so maybe she _had_ told the other girl about her interest in the paranormal, ghosts and mind reading and X-files type stuff. And maybe Annie _had_ teased her before about the 'I want to believe' poster in her dorm room. And maybe Molly _did_ deserve it after the missing notebook prank she had pulled last week. Curiosity quickly replaced annoyance, and her glower faded. "How did you do it?"

Annie actually giggled. "Sometimes, your expressions make it really easy to tell what you are thinking."

Molly frowned at her so-called friend. "Does my expression say 'I hate you right now' or something else?"

Annie just smirked in response.

"You're mean." Molly concluded, mock-sulking. Fortunately that was the point where Mr. Winger arrived and the various side conversations all stopped. His gaze swept over the class, and as it passed over the bright red Annie he blinked and took a second look before continuing on. He was also quick to notice the outsider to the class.

"Abed? What are you doing here?"

"I heard a rumor that you were teaching this class. I was curious."

"Well, obviously the rumor is true. So why are you here?" Mr. Winger wasn't exactly annoyed, but there was definitely a sarcastic edge to his voice.

"Well, teaching is not something I would have expected you do, given your character arc. I wanted to see why you decided to do this, and frankly, see how you act in this kind of situation." He sounded more like a professor than Mr. Winger did, and gave off an impression of high intelligence.

"Well, I am _very_ good at giving speeches, especially in public. This class needed someone to run it after the old professor pulled a Chang. So here I am. End of story." Abed simply quirked an eyebrow. The teacher sighed. "Let me guess. You want to sit in and observe me during class."

"Pretty much, yes. And I doubt things are quite as simple as you say."

Mr. Winger waved a threatening finger in Abed's direction. "Things rarely are. But I don't need you trying to open any lids." He sighed. "Fine, you can stay. But no voice-overs, no recaps afterwards, and no cameras." Abed nodded in agreement.

"I can work with that."

"OK, then. Anyone else have questions or comments before we get started?" No one spoke up. "OK then. Lets continue from where we were last class. Once everyone has gotten up in front and at least said a few words to get used to the concept, we can start going over the key elements of speaking."

The next hour seemed to zip by in a blur. Molly paid little attention to the lesson or the various classmates who were made to stand up and talk about practically anything that came to mind. She was focused on three people. Abed, and his observations of the class and Mr. Winger. Annie's attempts to draw their teacher's attention and flirt with him (despite this, Annie still took meticulous notes with her traditional dark green gel pens, which Molly planed to copy later). And finally, Mr. Winger's grace under fire reactions to the two of them while dealing with Pierce and the rest of the class. She could tell there were layers of subtext that she was missing, but what she did see was quite intriguing.

As the class packed up their things and drifted out into the hall, both Annie and Abed drifted to the front to talk to the teacher. Molly decided to follow her friend and listen in, and maybe strike up a conversation with Abed. Annie reached him first, and started with a compliment on his jacket, which seemed to go over well. Not surprising, as after only two classes Molly saw that Mr. Winger was a lot like Tony Stark. Smart, charming, but with a massive ego and a narcissistic streak. She paused a few steps back, not wanting to get between the two. Besides, it was entertaining to watch a surprisingly aggressive Annie Kim turn on the charm. Even better was the fact that Mr. Winger was obviously responding to said charm, but at the same time, uncomfortable for some reason. She didn't think he was seeing anyone, or at least Annie had told her he wasn't, but he did act like there was possibly someone else. The only other explanation for his squirming was that Pierce was right and Mr. Winger _was _gay, but she rather doubted that.

A looming shadow interrupted her musings and she glanced over to see Abed watching the two interact like she was. Up close, he was taller than she thought, but slender while Mr. Winger was more toned. He evidently noticed her perusal and turned to look at her.

"Hi," Molly said shyly.

"Hi," he responded matter-of-factually. OK, not the most graceful of introductions, but not terrible.

"I'm Molly." Scoring more points for originality there.

"Abed," he replied, holding out his hand to shake hers. She took it, and felt how smooth and warm it was.

"I know," her mouth was faster than her brain. Abed merely quirked an eyebrow. With a wig and ears, he could do an awesome Mr. Spock for Halloween. She quickly continued, slightly embarrassed. "I mean, you are part of the study group, right?"

"Yes. Jeff and Pierce are my friends." He freed his hand to wave at the two other men. Mr. Winger was still in a discussion with Annie, while Pierce was still at his seat, finishing a sandwich.

"I'm friends with Annie," she said, which caused him to frown in confusion.

"You are? She hasn't mentioned you before."

"Oh, not other-Annie, I meant Annie Kim." This time she pointed at her friend at the front of the class. His face smoothed out and he got a distant look for a moment, as if processing the statement.

"Ah. Interesting." They lapsed into a momentary silence and Molly shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot before deciding to just go for it. She dropped her backpack on the desk and dug out a scrap of paper and a pen, writing her cell number on it. She thrust it into his hand before explaining.

"I know I just met you, and you might think I'm crazy, but here's my number..." she trailed off as she realized she was paraphrasing that stupid song, then decided it was too late and decided to just give in and finish the meme, "...so call me maybe?" Abed cocked his head and gave her an appraising look.

"That was terrible." Her heart sank at the same time as she blushed in embarrassment. She was about to turn and flee, but he continued. "Points for the pop culture reference attempt, though. If I did call, though, what were you thinking?" She was caught off guard that he seemed to be saying yes.

"Umm, well...I didn't think that far ahead. You actually plan to call me?"

"Well, you are kind of cute, and remind me of of Haley Dunphy, plus you did come out and ask, which I like, but a lot of girls won't do anymore because I'm weird."

"Haley who?" She was confused.

"The girl on Modern Family. You look a lot like her." Was that a complement?

"I've never watched it."

"Do you want to? I have it on Blue Ray." Well, she was going to suggest coffee or something, but that would work.

"I'd love to! It's a date!"

"In the interest of full disclosure though, I've been told I can be creepy weird sometimes, not just cute weird. I'm seeing a therapist, and if it came down to a choice between you and my friends, I'm going to have to go with my friends, especially Troy." Molly wasn't quite sure what to make of that. On one hand, it was a little off-putting, but on the other, the openness was nice after the confusing mess of mixed messages that had been Pete by the end of their relationship.

"Umm, OK. To be fair, we just met though, so can we burn those bridges when we get to them?"

"Mixed metaphor, but sure." She glanced at Pierce finishing his sandwich and her stomach rumbled.

"Do you want to get lunch? I usually go with Annie, but she seems busy right now, and I'm hungry. If we hurry, we can maybe get some chicken fingers."

"Sure. But can you tell me more about your friend? I don't know her that well, but from the looks of it, the Jeff and Annie dynamic is about to get more complicated than usual. I'm worried about them."

"Wait, do you mean my friend Annie and Mr. Winger, or your friend Annie and him."

"Yes." Well that was ambiguous. She _had_ wondered if Mr. Winger was interested in someone else, maybe this other Annie was the one? Her Annie didn't seem to care for who she called other-Annie, so was her interest in Jeff related to that? Well, it would be best to find out more before jumping to any conclusions.

"Shall we compare notes over chicken fingers?"

"Sure, but I think I'll get something else instead. Maybe tater tots."

He opened the door for her and they wandered out of the classroom, still both worried about their friend they were leaving behind. Molly grabbed Abed's hand as they walked, and he gave a faint smile at the gesture.

* * *

Author's Note: Section One takes place Friday Sep 28, while section two is Monday, Oct 1.

We know so little about Annie Kim that writing her as well as Molly was like adding two OCs, not just one. Having Annie Kim not be a viewpoint character makes things a bit more ambiguous, while writing from Molly's pov allows me to get a better perspective on Annie Kim's side of things, as well as a fun outsider view of the group. And a romantic/friend interest for Abed (before spoilers came along about a romantic interest for Abed in season 4. At least that rumor seems to shoot down any chance of Annie/Abed). Depending on how the season goes, I'll either refer and integrate elements into the story, or ignore them in favor of my AU take.

Next chapter will be Abed's POV. Annie's journal was added to this chapter since she won't have her own chapter again for a little while still.

Thanks for Rashhaka for pointing out some missing words. Fixed now, I think.


	7. Taking up Arms

_Jeff's Journal Sat October 6._

_This has been an odd two weeks. First, the positive. My first check for teaching cleared, so I'm now four grand in the black. That means I can keep up my search for a few more weeks without having to forgo rent and live in my car again. It even gives me some cash to restock the safe some. Conditioner levels were starting to run dangerously low. And surprisingly, teaching the class is not as bad as I thought. They listen and pay attention to me, and I give them some of the basics of how to read the audience and craft your approach accordingly, then make people get up and speak to get them in the habit. If someone runs long or Garrett is talking, I can camp out at my desk and check on Twitter._

_The problems I expected haven't shown up yet. Pierce, surprisingly, has been on good behavior, and not only listens to what I am saying but has added some advice and tips of his own which are actually pretty good. He is still Pierce, but I guess this is a side of him that is actually invested and professional, to the best of his ability. Guess you don't get to be that old without having some positives. It frankly feels like when we first met and he wanted to be friends with me so badly. It's a vast improvement over evil D&D and fake deathbed pranks. Therefore, I've been cutting him more slack than usual. I'd maybe offer to let him be a TA if I didn't fear he would get slapped by some sort of harassment charge if I let him run things.  
_

_Abed would also be a problem with his freaky ability to read your mind and predict the future on his web show that is about us but is not actually us. He decided to sit in, and now is unofficially auditing the class, but I'm not sure if that is to observe and mess with my mind, or because of how Pip, Molly, has latched onto him. It's been a while since Abed has been interested in a girl that was not digital, so it should be interesting to see this play out._

_On the other hand, Pip's friends with Kim, who has been after me for a date for a while now. If you asked me about this a month ago, or a year ago, I'd say Hell no, she is snooty and evil and a pale shadow of real Annie. But Kim has been acting a lot differently. She's been acting far friendlier, and when she switches out of her glasses and cardigan combo, is rather hot. She has also been hinting that she is more interested in the dating part of things than in any sort of long term thing, and has a proper appreciation for the finer things in life. Honestly, if this was in a vacuum, I would have probably said yes long before now, but I'm not in a vacuum, and there is Annie to consider._

_I'm worried about her. She's been cranky recently, and quieter. If I was a better person, I'd be able to just go to her and ask her what is wrong, because something obviously is. But if I did that, I might end up ruining things. I...care about her, a lot, but I'm not so good with the helping out with or talking about feelings kinds of things. If it wasn't for me and the crap I put her through, she would be a lot happier, and less likely to make people like Todd cry in front of Biology class. At the same time, I am too selfish to let her go, either. I want her to be happy, but I also want her, and I don't think I can get both of those to work at the same time yet. It only took a year, but I can now admit that I was jealous of stupid Vaughn and serial killer Rich. And she keeps trying to get me to let her in, but I keep holding her at arms length. If I did let her in, she would want the whole package, dating, and public announcements and before long things like talking about moving in together and scary binders of ideas for weddings. I can admit that those things are terrifying to me, but not for the reasons you may think. If I was capable of love, I would take the chance and tell her how I feel, but I don't think I am. And I don't want to try it just put her through the same crap Mom went through with Dad._

_If I do find my dad, I'm hoping for some sort of closure. It's naive to expect it to magically make everything better like in Disney movies, but I am sort of hoping that I'll find out why he did the shit to me and Mom that he did before he left. See if it is genetic, or because he was just an asshole. I want to find out on my terms though, and not drag my friends into the mess that was my childhood. It's frustrating though, as until I do manage to find him and hopefully sort myself out, I'm basically in limbo, and so is anything with Annie._

_Maybe I should take Kim up on her offer. It doesn't sound like anything serious, and one night with a hot girl at an upscale restaurant would be a nice distraction from the usual crap I put myself and my friends through. To be honest, it wouldn't be the first time, even after I finally admitted to myself that I care about Annie, though it has been far less recent in the past few years. It would certainly be better than moping at home, watching E! specials on the Kardashians. One date couldn't be that bad, especially if we make a decent trip of it and go somewhere nice in say Fort Collins. It would be nice to just relax for a bit, take a break from worrying about myself, about Annie, about my Dad, and everything else. And maybe find somewhere with decent seafood. I miss good calamari.  
_

_I suppose my other option would be to maybe break into those anti-anxiety meds I still have stashed in the bathroom. Britta was right that they were a bad idea, but there are days where I think it would be worth it to just take one and feel better for a little while. Certainly it would be cheaper than nights out at the bar. The thing stopping me from that option though is remembering what happened with Seacrest Hulk, and later Annie telling me that she was worried, but that she didn't think I was an addict. If I gave into the urge to take them again, I have the feeling that I would reach the plate-glass point, and that she would be disgusted in my weakness when she pulled out of that spiral by herself. I don't want to disappoint her. God. It's like I am actually dating her, always thinking about what she would think of me, or what she wants, or what would make her smile, but without actually dating her and getting the benefits. I want to be the kind of person who could do that, but I just can't, yet. If ever.  
_

_OK, journal, enough for now. It's getting rather depressing to read what I wrote. Especially when I start going in circles. Maybe if this was plastered with Hello Kitty on the outside it would be a tad more cheerful. And finally, the usual warning applies. If you read this and I find out, I will hunt you down and murder you. Winger Guarantee._

* * *

Molly was... interesting. That was the best word for it. While he had only known her about a week, Abed was having to reassess some of his assumptions about his life and the future. Troy was still going to invent dance pants by the end of the decade, even with Britta's involvement. But his predictions for himself that he would end up alone may have been based on faulty information. The first step had been Hilda, who stayed in his computer but they were growing more and more distant. She was just a touch too predictable these days. And then Molly came along and not only is she a real person and not a digital simulation, she was almost the best of both worlds. She was young and playful, but more importantly, she was open and easy for him to read. Annie, Shirley, and Britta were hard to simulate because they tended to keep their feelings internalized, with a lot of the communication with their respective partners done through body language and expressions. Molly was more open, and willing to simply say what she was thinking or feeling. Talking with her was almost like talking to Troy; they both wore their feelings on their sleeves.

It was also nice to have someone else to talk to these days. Yes, Britta was right and the study group was changing and evolving, but it had been getting a bit boring and lonely recently. Troy was spending more and more time doing AC repair stuff, especially now that there was something going on about a potential investor in the school. What time he wasn't there, he was spending with Britta, except for Tuesdays, Thursdays, and alternate weekends, plus negotiations for various holidays and movie premiers according to the custody agreement he and Britta had signed.

And Annie, who was supposed to help balance out the mood in the apartment was spending most of _her_ time in her room, either studying, moping, or watching crime shows borrowed from Shirley. She had also claimed the apartment copy of The Avengers as her own. Troy and Abed had tried to negotiate for it's safe return, but they had given up after a three day argument over which movie was better- The Avengers or The Dark Knight Rises. Abed was worried about her, and offered her a session in the dreamatorium capsule to talk about it, but she had refused, even though he knew she had been sneaking in sessions when noone else was there. The controls were always different when he got back. And as far as he knew, she didn't know about Annie Kim's pursuit of Jeff yet. Jeff seemed more willing to listen to Abed on that situation, but overall he sensed a storm brewing.

Abed felt himself being watched and snapped out of his thoughts to see Jeff staring at him from across the table with a mild frown. He didn't say anything, but Abed knew that his inattention _was _out of character for him, so he tuned back into the conversation. Troy and Britta were taking turns regaling the study group about their weekend trip to the farmer's market/fair, the last one scheduled before it got too cold.

"...So it turned out that they _did _have a booth for Verizon phones, could you believe it? And my hand felt better after that medic wrapped the burn in a first aid mitten."

"Troy, I told you it was dangerous to try to try to leave a voicemail on my phone!" Britta was a mix of annoyed and amused, a syrupy voice she still railed against when she caught herself doing it.

"Well, that phone had been the last of the six pack to do a fireworks impression, and she needed a phone, so we went to the Verizon booth."

"I still can't believe I let you talk me into getting a phone from one of the fascistocorporate monopolies."

"It's not a smart phone, she wouldn't go that far, even if you could make it look and sound like a Star Trek tricorder, but at least it won't catch fire. And the best part about her new phone? You can add custom ring-tones!"

"Custom ringtones?" Annie asked, the first sign of interest in something by her so far today.

"I know! Turns out when people actually call on a phone, you can choose to have it play a song instead of ring! We chose one for each of you so we know who is calling just by what song plays! And mine can do that too!" Troy was clearly enjoying the new discovery, while Britta just gave him an indulgent smile. Further down the table, Jeff frowned and started tapping keys on his phone. Britta's phone vibrated and started playing a catchy drum tempo followed shortly by the opening words to a song before she could grab it and silence it.

"_Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste."_

"Really, Britta? Sympathy For The Devil? I'm not that bad!" Jeff complained while Shirley gasped in dismay.

"Well, it was that or 'You're So Vain,' so just live with it!" Britta shot back.

"Change it."

"No!"

"Change it!"

"I said no!" Jeff made a grab for the phone, but Britta was quicker and slid it down the table past Abed, where Troy grabbed it and cradled it protectively.

"I don't think that is really an appropriate song to associate with Jeff, Brit-ta, even if he hasn't accepted the Lord into his life yet!" Shirley was in full motherly and religiously disapproving mode.

"What are you talking about? It's a great song! I was there the first time the Stones played it live, with a pair of very lovely ladies, and after the concert, we went back to the motel and..."

"Eww!" "Pierce!" "No!" "Eww!" "I can't hear this!" A chorus of voices interrupted his story, as usual. Pierce looked annoyed, but made no attempt to continue, by now used to being shut down by the others.

"Change it!" Jeff added one more time.

"No!" Britta was firm in her response, and it looked like they were about to get back into the childish back and forth.

"Guys, can we get back to the story about the weekend?" Troy practically shouted. Jeff merely leaned back and waved a hand as if in permission, then crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, likely to plot the theft of Britta's phone so he could change the ringtone himself. That had the potential for some harmless escapades, so Abed decided to keep a close eye on that front. Maybe even encourage it as a way to burn off a bit of the tension that was slowly enveloping the group. If Abed's friends didn't respond to normal help, the best alternative might be to manipulate things into a more cinematic situation where he could better get his friends to resolve their differences themselves. On the other hand, maybe Dr. Connor was right, and that was a crutch which would merely prevent him from growing and expanding his own interpersonal skill. Perhaps he could just keep that option in reserve for now and continue to let things play out naturally.

"Well, after we got the new phone, we went to this stand where they were selling fairy floss."

"Fairy floss?" Shirley asked. Pierce chuckled at the name but didn't say anything after the older woman glared at him.

"It tasted like cotton candy, but the guy selling it sounded Englishy like Duncan, so I think it was some special English version of cotton candy. But it tasted good." Britta nodded in agreement.

"Are we really going to get a play by play account of you two's weekend? If so, can someone wake me when you get to the talking about the sex?" Maybe it was acclamation, maybe it was simply tired acceptance, but the most Pierce got for his comment was some rolled eyes this time, even from Shirley.

"Would you rather talk about something else, like studying World History?" Troy asked.

"Yes!" Surprisingly, the shout came from Annie and Jeff simultaneously, who then looked at each other then quickly away.

"History is important you guys!" Annie explained plaintively. "And I heard all about this already yesterday," she mumbled in a much quieter voice.

"You did?" Troy asked in surprise.

"Duh doy! I was home when you and Britta told Abed the whole story!"

"Oh. Right. I kind of forgot," Troy admitted sheepishly. True, Annie had been ensconced in her room when Troy and Britta had gotten home, but Abed noticed the note of annoyance and unhappiness that crossed her face when Troy all but admitted to forgetting all about her.

"And what is your excuse?" Britta asked Jeff. He merely shrugged.

"Well, fairs aren't really my thing, and I don't plan to film a documentary about your weekend," he waved in Abed's direction, though for once Abed didn't plan on filming it either. Barring talking pigs, fairs did not make for compelling stories. "So I would much rather study the..." He flipped to a random page in the history textbook, "Triangle trade, than hear every little shop you stopped at. Plus, I still need to come up with some sort of lesson plan for class later." Annie gasped at the last comment. the fact that Jeff was teaching a class was not exactly a secret, but he hadn't really talked about it at all before now. As far as he could tell, Jeff simply compartmentalized the class away from everything else. The only exceptions were when Molly though of some question or comment like the other day when she had been invited to join Abed and Jeff's weekly X-Box sessions.

"You mean you don't have a lesson plan yet?" Annie asked Jeff, glossing over the whole fact that as far as Abed knew, he had yet to actually admit he was teaching a class to her. As usual though, her primary concern was the preparation/organization for the class, or the lack thereof.

"Well, it's a class about _speaking_, which I am the undisputed master of. Ergo, I really don't need to plan and script every moment of the class when I can simply stand up and wow them with my knowledge of the subject."

"You may think you are the master of speaking, but remember when you tried to wing it at that first debate?" First debate? There had been more than one? That was unexpected information. Abed would have to see if that affected any of the variables.

"Maybe, but I seem to recall we won thanks to someone 'winging it.'" He tapped his lips as he said that, causing a faint blush to spread on Annie's cheeks but she soldiered on anyways.

"You may be able to lawyer your way into or out of most anything, but you are trying to teach others. The point is to help them learn, not just impress them and bask your ego in their attention!" Interesting. The duo's unresolved sexual tension seemed to be shifting into a more belligerent sexual tension. They may not notice it, but it represented progress, especially compared to the past few weeks. Abed could work with this. If they kept this up, perhaps even his prediction of the upcoming Annie Kim disaster could be molded into a tool for good in the long run. Their bickering was interrupted by the dean's voice blaring out of the PA system.

**Good morning students of Greendale! Welcome back to another Mon-derful Monday here at your favorite community college! Just a few announcements for you today, then you can all get back to your fun! First, I'd like everyone to give a Greendale welcome to Officer Lou Welsh, our new head of security! Don't worry folks, he's been thoroughly checked, so there is absolutely no chance of a repeat of the little incident you all hopefully don't remember from last year. On a related note, to those individuals who think it is funny to smash the windows of the teacher's lounge and make off with people private possessions, please stop! Not only is it rude, but those windows cost nearly _seventy_ _dollars_ to replace! And to the students of the Greendale Gazette Journal Mirror, I'd like to officially state that there is _not_ a crime wave on campus. Honestly, your paper was much better run when Jeffery Winger was in charge. And the crossword puzzle has been going downhill too! **

Annie simply shrugged and the announcements continued. "I haven't really been in the mood, so I've just been turning in old ones that I did when I first joined the paper." Troy gasped.

"I thought there was a reason they seemed to be getting easier, but I thought I just thought I was getting smarter!"

"So did I," Britta pouted.

"I still can't finish them! Did you really have to make them so hard, Annie?" Pierce complained.

**...and on to cheerier news. The Greendale Glee club is recruiting again! Just because the Christmas pageant last year didn't go well, and the two glee clubs before that either died or had to be committed doesn't mean we can't make it to regionals this year! Be sure to slap a smile on your face and sign up today! Remember, Glee actually _means_ Glee!  
**

The group collectively winced in memory, before the other six turned to glare at Abed. **  
**

"Don't worry, I have no desire for another remake of our Glee club adventures," he assured them. The rest of the group seemed to accept that, but Jeff held his gaze for a few more seconds before letting go. Abed was still trying to understand why Jeff hated that show, and by extension, the club. Again, something to file under the category of harmless adventures for later.

**Remember folks, the Halloween party this year is being run by our very own Vicki! Remember, costumes are mandatory, and it's going to be a blast! Catering is going to be done by Pierce and Shirley's sandwiches, which you all know and love, but that means we are going to miss out on the tasty taco meat buffet from previous years. Get ready for a night of spooky fun!**

"That sounds fun! Everyone is going to be there, _I hope?_" Shirley managed to shift from a lilt into a threat in the space of two words as the dean continued to talk.

"I will! I even have my costume ready!" Britta responded enthusiastically. "I'm going as the Wonder Woman!"

"Didn't you wear that when we all dressed up in costume to see the Avengers with Abed?" Annie asked.

"So? I liked that costume! It fit me really well! And did you know Wonder Woman was created by a psychologist, just like me?"

"Not just like you. You're still a student" Jeff had started what was best described as a running gag of deflating Britta every time she got overly excited about her psych major. At first it was funny, then annoying, but now was like a tradition between the two, another sign of their now sibling-like bond.

"I liked you in that costume Brittles. It really showed off your..." Pierce mimed a pair of breasts. Troy poked him in annoyance.

"Hey, man! Not cool!"

"I know, I know, you have claimed them as your own, but I can still look can't I?" Britta looked ready to launch into a diatribe about objectifying her body and gender roles, so Abed spoke quickly.

"When we saw the Avengers, it was OK, since she was in costume, even if it was a DC character at a Marvel movie. But for Halloween we are going to go with DC characters. Britta will be Wonder Woman again, I'm Batman, and Troy is going to be Superman."

"A black Superman? That's ridiculous. That's like a black Spiderman or a white Arethra Franklin! It's just not done!"

"Pierce! That's offensive!" Shirley was quick to respond to her usual sparring partner.

"What? I was trying to be polite about it! I mean I didn't say black Hitler did I?" It was like watching Troy debate people online.

The argument was interrupted when the opening of Sympathy for the Devil started playing from the phone in front of Troy. Jeff had tuned out the argument and apparently dialed Britta's phone again, maybe in the hopeful expectation that the ringtone had changed in the past few minutes.

"Hey! You both have that song for when I call!" Jeff complained. It was Troy's phone that rang.

"Well, we did pick out the ring tones together!" Troy defended.

"True, and it doesn't matter now if one of you answers the wrong phone by mistake." Pierce added, referring to the incident that had torpedoed the couples' attempt to keep it secret. Though to be fair, even Pierce and Shirley had known from the moment the two had gotten together. Any idea of secrecy by Troy and Britta was in their minds only, but the group had played along for a few days before they mixed up phones when Annie tried to call Troy.

"So you picked out more than one? One for each of us, by chance?" Jeff had his lawyer tone now, and leaned forward. "How about we hear what you chose for the rest of us?"

"You can't just invade the privacy of our phones like this!" Britta complained, "Not without a warrant!" As usual, this was met with groans of annoyance.

"We don't have to. We aren't tapping the phones, just listening to ring tones."

"You know, the choice of songs to associate with people tells us a lot about what someone thinks about them" Annie unexpectedly added in support of Jeff. For all their recent moping and bickering, they fell naturally into supporting one another. If Annie ever decided to go into law instead of medical administration, the duo would be terrifying. Abed had a mental picture of the two sitting together on a desk in a law office with the sign Winger and Edison in the background behind them. Maybe he could get his Jeff and Annie stand-ins to do a photo shoot.

"That's right. It's basic Psychology 101, Miss psych major."

"102" Annie corrected.

"It's basic Psychology 102, Miss psych major" Jeff didn't miss a beat.

"It still doesn't mean you can violate my rights!"

"We don't have to. Shirley?" The older woman didn't hesitate, but pulled out her own phone and started dialing. Either she was better in tune with Jeff thanks to their strange bond over lunches and foozeball, or this was a trick used on crime shows that Abed couldn't recall. The music that responded to her call was also familiar to everyone in the group.

"Highway to Hell? Britta! How dare you!" The threat in Shirley's voice was clear, what with the several octave drop from normal.

"No, no, it's not about you!" Britta tried to explain before Troy took over the defense.

"Shirley, you are always telling us that we are going to the bad place if we are not better, so it was the first thing that came to mind for a song. It's not like there are any catchy songs about baking after all."

"Hummph. You better watch yourself. And that _better_ not have been a lie. God does not look kindly on those who mock his true followers."

"My turn!" Pierce demanded and slowly punched the number into his own phone. "Is that Walk Like an Egyptian? I don't get it."

"I've never even heard it." Annie mumbled.

"Well, Egyptians are old, and it's a catchy tune." Troy explained.

"I couldn't think of anything myself," Britta admitted, "so that's what we went with for you." she was deflated, evidently resigned to the fate of having to explain everyone's ringtones. Annie was next to dial and listen.

"Aww! You picked Time of Your Life for me!" Britta and Troy both nodded.

"We remembered how much you like that song, and how happy you were to get those CDs back from Pierce."

"Thanks guys!" The group then turned to Abed expectantly. He didn't bother to dial.

"Mine is Mr. Roboto. Right?"

"Yep!" Troy confirmed. "Just like when we talked about what our theme songs should be."

"Cool. Cool cool cool." They reached out and did their handshake as well.

"OK, now are we done with the Spanish Study Group Inquisition?" Britta demanded.

"Not yet!" Annie said, "what about you two? What did you pick for each other? I want to know! I want to know!" It wasn't her 'I love butterflies' voice, but closer to the one she used whenever she found something new to stick into one of her dating or wedding idea binders.

"Ms. Bouncy has a point," Jeff agreed, and she quickly glanced at him with soft expression before turning back to Troy and Britta. "You know we aren't going to give up on this. But if you tell us, we won't have Abed suggest ways to steal your phones and find out like James Bond or something." Britta rolled her eyes and held out her hand to Troy, who slid her phone back to her. With a huff, she dialed Troy's phone.

"It's American Woman, OK! Happy now?" It was a fitting song for her, Abed decided. Shades of female empowerment and anti-establishment rhetoric with a catchy beat that was popular even now. Troy simply hit the call back button and the group listened to what he had obviously selected for himself on Britta's phone.

"Lime and the Coconut!" Pierce cried out excitedly, "I get it!"

"Get what?" Jeff asked.

"It's about the two of them together! Brittles is the lime, since she can be sour but some people like that, and gets along with margaritas really well. Troy is the coconut, since it is dark colored and has a hard head, and likes tropical islands." He looked proud of his analysis.

"Pierce, that's not really nice." Shirley was the first to react.

"Actually, it's OK, Shirley," Britta responded. "I can kind of see what he is talking about, actually." Troy agreed

"So can I. I _do_ like tropical islands, and Britta does like margaritas!"

"Besides, I'm impressed at how inoffensive it was. For Pierce, it was a positively sweet sentiment!" Britta added.

"Thank you!" Pierce preened.

The group descended into the more common banter of most usual sessions in the study room, so Abed started to tune it out, only keeping one ear open for anything of interest. Instead, he started planning his evening. Molly had invited him over tonight (for the evening, not to spend the night). He had a shift at Beans and More, but he ought to call Molly and see if she would be alright with him stopping in after that. And ask Annie later if he could borrow her car so he didn't have to take the bus and could just drive to her place after his shift. Maybe some flowers too. It was expected on early dates to give flowers, according to the some of Annie's movies he had watched.

* * *

Abed raised his hand to the door, deciding on the Jaws theme to knock, when it opened in front of him. Molly was standing there with an excited bounce that reminded him of Annie to a degree. She waved a DVD at him and he handed her a mixed bouquet. Her face lit up at the flowers and she crushed him with a hug before waving him inside.

"Abed! Hi! Come on in!" She was wearing a pair of bright yellow fuzzy socks, sweat pants, and another pony shirt, this time with a purple unicorn character on it. Others might be annoyed or insulted that she had not dressed up for what could be called a date, but Abed had suggested and she agreed that they ought to hang out more casually at first before any sort of 'proper' dates. On one hand, it was a logical idea, letting them get to know one another and relax before doing the romantic side of things. On the other, Abed was hesitant about the whole dating idea. Women approached him, and he had been on a few dates, been kissed, and slept with a few, but overall his problems with empathy and social skills meant that anything longer term tended to end poorly. Like previous groups of friends, girls would be attracted to him and his vulnerability, wanting to fix him, but then leaving in frustration when they failed. Molly was intriguing for some reason, so he really wanted for her to get to know him and hopefully accept who he was like his friends had managed. It also gave him time to study movies, shows, and books for tips on romance, and practice empathy. They may not be properly dating yet, but Abed had been practicing, testing the waters with things like chocolates, messages, and the flowers he brought today. So far she seemed pleased, and though she hadn't had to deal with any of his 'scary weird' moments, Molly had taken his 'cute weird' moments in stride.

He glanced around, curious to see if her roommate was there. Molly saw his survey and correctly guessed his question. "Sara's not here Abed. She's hanging out with another couple of girls, one of I think is a lesbian. I want to say her name is Page?"

"I think I know who you are talking about. Blonde, wears hats and leather vests all the time?"

"Yeah! That's her!"

"She's not a lesbian. She kind of looks and acts like one, but she is more interested in being friends with a real lesbian for the reputation than actually being one." Molly frowned at him.

"How do you know all this? Did you used to date her?" He couldn't tell if there was a note of jealousy in her voice. Subtleties in facial expressions and tones were still somewhat of a mystery, though Annie had been trying to coach him until she got into her recent funk.

"No, I just tend to be one of those people who can get a lot of information out of others with little effort. But in this case, Britta was doing the same thing, which resulted in a Valentine's dance where both Britta and Page thought the other was a lesbian. I heard that it was interesting."

"Britta. Huh." This time, even Abed couldn't miss the disapproval in her voice, but he didn't understand it. He didn't press Molly on the subject though. If she wanted to talk about it, she would. It did mean that he was going to have to rewrite the scene where the two of them met in the upcoming episode of his show. He'd work on that tomorrow. She traded him the DVD case for the flowers and went to find some sort of container to put them in. Meanwhile, Abed made his way over to the television and picked out the correct disc, inserting it into the machine. Molly continued her search, as vases were in rather short supply in the dorm room.

For a dorm room, it was rather typical. Smaller than his was when he lived on campus, which had been meant for a RA before Abed traded with the original resident, much of the space was taken up by a bunk bed and a pair of dressers and desks, standard shabby college issue. Most of the rest of the space was taken up by a large television and a futon facing it, both flanked by shelves full of DVDs. Compared to his own collection it was sparse, but otherwise it was a rather extensive library of movies and shows. Next to the door to the bathroom was a brand new hamper, evidently a result of her embarrassment at his having noticed the drift of dirty clothes on his first visit here. There had been nothing too exciting or incriminating, but even the plain bra and panties laying on top had been enough to cause Molly to flush red when she realized they were there and that Abed had seen them.

She finally settled on dumping the last dregs of milk out of the small jug in the mini-fridge, rinsing it out, and using it as a makeshift vase. Finally situated, the gift was set on top of the microwave, which itself sat on the fridge. Overall, it made for a cheery if slightly incongruous addition to the rooms decor.

"I'll get something nicer to put them in later," she assured him before grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the futon. Abed pulled off his shoes and dropped them to the side, out of the way, and then settled his lanky frame into the cheap black cushions. Satisfied that he was settled in, Molly grabbed the remote and proceeded to curl up next to him, pulling his arm around her to use as a neck pillow. It was strange. They hadn't even kissed yet, but still she acted so familiar with him that someone could never tell that fact. Abed didn't mind, beyond the fact that she had preempted the 'yawn and stretch' trick from his dating checklist.

Bones was one of the few shows Abed could name that he had _not_ seen before now, and with each passing episode, he wondered how he had missed it. Since it was his first time, chatter was kept to a minimum, and Molly simply snuggled in closer to him as he watched, occasionally quoting along with the characters. True, it was no Inspector Spacetime, but he would have to rate this as possibly the third best show of all time. Mostly because he found himself identifying with the title character. True, she seemed to lack even basic knowledge of pop culture, but at the same time her combination of intelligence and social awkwardness felt familiar.

"I know some people in the FBI" Molly said as the episode ended. He glanced down at her and quirked a questioning eyebrow. "My dad got called in to help with a serial arsonist case a few years back, before he got hurt. It took nine months, off and on, but they finally caught the guy," she added proudly. Abed didn't say anything, just let her continue. "The lead agent, Owen Parsons, became friends with my dad, and helped us both out after he got injured and was put on disability." Her voice quavered a bit at the memory, so Abed wrapped the arm she had been using as a pillow around her more and pulled her in closer. "Uncle Owen and his partner still keep in touch with us." Abed bit down on any Star Wars comments or jokes he might have made.

"How about you? You seem like you ought to know people in high places with your movie director skills," she asked. Abed hesitated. On one hand, he did have a few stories, like meeting Courtney Cox on the set of Cougartown, or his online feud with Brett Rattner, but she had just opened up to him by talking about her family and father, which was one of the few subjects she seemed to keep private. She mistook his hesitation for something else. "What, old girlfriend? I won't be jealous, I promise!" Her smile was teasing, which on most other people Abed would have missed, but on Molly her openness made even her facial expressions easier for him to understand. And she was right, that was another story he hadn't thought about telling.

"Well, I did date a secret service agent for a couple months a while back."

"Really! I didn't think they could date! What was she like?"

"Think me, but female."

"So she looked like Halle Berry?"

"No, I meant personality wise."

"So how did you two meet? What did you do? What happened?"

"OK, in order, the vice-president was going to come to the school, so she was part of an advanced team that I noticed. They thought I was suspicious, and investigated me and we had similar personalities so we hit it off. There was a whole other election plot going on with Jeff and Annie and in the end the vice president didn't come after all. I said a few things to get put on a watch list and she stayed behind to investigate me. She watched me watch movies, have dinner, and go to the park a few times, and it was fun, but they ended up taking me off their list and she had to go back to D.C." Molly considered his story and nodded.

"Wow, that sounds so much more interesting and exciting than my ex-boyfriend. We met at school, went to a few dances, then spent six months with him trying to decide if he actually liked me or was just going out with me because his mother thought we were a cute couple."

"I'm glad we can hang out and just talk about things like this," Abed admitted.

"Aww! I like you too! I know you don't think you are very good with people, but I have fun with you." She waggled a finger in front of his face. "But don't think I don't want you to take me out to a nice restaurant at some point. And at some point, you are going to kiss me." Her finger moved from waggling in front of his face to resting on his lips. Romance was far easier to understand when the other person was openly call the shots. It let him just enjoy being part of the action, rather than directing or producing it.

Two more episodes went by and he could hear Molly starting to doze off next to him. She had pulled a blanket over the two of them to ward off the slight chill in the air that the dorm's heater didn't quite banish. She looked happy, and Abed was loathe to disturb her, but shortly he was going to have to get up and go home. Spending the night over was not in either of their plans. He was about to gently shake her awake when a car alarm sounded outside. Molly sat up, eyes wide at the sound which seemed to come from right outside the window. The alarm was quickly followed by several raised voices and the sound of glass breaking. Abed froze, not sure how to respond to the crime happening what sounded like less than 50 feet outside. Batman would know what to do, but Batman didn't have to consider the safety of a young woman who was now scrambling for something in her closet.

The voices stopped and were replaced by the sound of a car starting. Abed decided that it was safe enough to go to the window and see, only to catch a lime green Prius pulling out of a parking space, leaving broken glass in its place. Remembering crime shows, he memorized the license plate, so he could write it down for the investigation. He sensed Molly come up behind him as the car accelerated out of the lot onto the street, and lights in other dorm rooms lit up the night. She sighed and plopped down in one of the two desk chairs.

"Do you think someone already called security or the police yet?" she asked.

"Maybe. I don't know. I got the license plate number though."

"Go ahead and call too. Can't hurt. I know whose car that was though."

"Really?" Abed wondered.

"Yeah, Sonya is going to be pissed." Her mouth was quirked in a smile though.

"You sound...happy...about that," Abed noted hesitantly.

"Well, not about the car getting taken, but that it was Sonja. She's on the cheerleader squad." Abed guessed that she had been rejected for the squad and held a grudge, just like Annie did for a while. He made a call and gave a quick statement to the cops as he and Molly started to relax from the surge of adrenaline.

"I wonder if this is related to the various other thefts and vandalism that we have seen around campus recently," he pondered aloud.

"Maybe, but car theft is a lot bigger than just broken windows, or graffiti, or stolen backpacks or lab equipment," Molly responded.

"Huh. If Starburns was still alive, he'd be a major suspect for those last two."

"Who?"

"Starburns. Liked to be called Alex. Wore a top hat and shaved his sideburns into stars, hence the name. He blew up last year, and I did his memorial video. His ashes and the ashes of his lizard are still on the Blue Ray shelf at the casa," he explained quickly.

"He blew up?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yep, he had a meth lab in his trunk. He was a drug dealer, but fun at parties."

"Huh. I guess I understand some of what Annie likes to complain about this place better now." Annie Kim, he assumed.

"It happened around the time we were investigating the murder of Pam."

"Wait, there was a murder too?" Her eyes were wide.

"Pam was the groups Yam project for biology. It was killed, so Annie insisted we find out who did it so we could still earn an A. It was a lot of fun. Felt like an episode of Law and Order. I wonder if Troy wants to be the good cop or bad cop first this time."

"Wait, slow down a second. Your Annie or mine?"

"Well, the Annie who lives with me, but she's not _my_ Annie. It would be more accurate to call her _Jeff's_ Annie."

"Huh? My Annie has been trying to get Mr. Winger to go on a date for more than a week now. Has he been saying no because of other-Annie? Are they dating?"

"For the sake of the narrative and to avoid confusion, it might be easier to call them Annie K and Annie E to tell them apart." Molly crossed her arms.

"Fine, but you didn't answer my question. Is Mr. Winger dating Annie E? If he is, I should let Annie K know so she doesn't waste any more time." Abed hesitated.

Depending on what he told Molly, she might tell Annie K, which would alter that dynamic. And he really wasn't sure himself about many of the variables. Annie E had told him that she did not _love_ Jeff, but that she did want to get with him. The overall sentiment confused Abed, and he suspected that Annie was not quite sure about it herself. Jeff was clearly interested in Annie E, but beyond that, his motivations were a mystery, especially recently. It was like there was a character arc involved for him that Abed couldn't see, one that was affecting his interaction with Annie E. Plus, even though Annies E and K seemed to despise each other, the way Annie K was now pursuing Jeff seemed to indicate some sort of triangle forming. It would not be out of character for Jeff to be think selfishly for a moment and decide to take up Annie K on what she seemed to be offering him, inadvertently hurting Annie E badly in the process. But maybe that could finally catalyze the duo's arc and after the likely pain, they could finally resolve that annoying 'will they or won't they' plot that has been going on for years now.

"It's, well, complicated," was all that he said, summing up his thought. She frowned, not satisfied with the answer, but his own expression caused her to let it go for now.

"OK, though I want to know more about it sometime later. Next question: what did you mean by good cop bad cop and Troy?"

"Well, when we were investigating the Yam case, he and I were the detectives, and we traded off between good cop and bad cop, and who got to say the zingers and wear sunglasses."

"I get that much, but what about it. Are you planning to investigating these crimes?"

"Well, yes." It made sense, and Abed trusted his own skills more than he did campus security, who had a spotty track record at best. "Troy and I do have a 100% success rate in closing cases so far." Molly stood up and scrunched up her nose at him. She looked annoyed.

"You solved one mystery, about a _yam_!" OK, she was angry for some reason, but this time he couldn't tell why. May as well just be direct. First, he sat down on the futon so he was not looming over her like he always did when they stood. He felt rather more sympathy for Jeff and his 'two foot height disparity' with Annie these days.

"Why are you angry about it? I don't understand." She started pacing in front of him.

"Well, first, you aren't an actual investigator, and these are real crimes, not dead potatoes."

"True, but I know a lot about the subject, certainly more than the Greendale security people who have been looking into them for the past few weeks."

"Abed, real crimes are a lot different from what you see on TV!"

"Are we having a fight? I think so, but I want to be sure."

"Yes, Abed, we are having a fight. You want to go out and play detective with Troy, without knowing what you are really doing and without me!"

"Without you?"

"Yes! I'm angry because I know some of the bad things that can happen in real criminal investigations, and because when it happened right outside my room, your first thought was about Troy and being a cop!" Her hands were on her hips and she leaned forward with a look that reminded him of an angry version of what Jeff called Annie's 'formidable face,' the one that she tended to use on Abed and Troy when she wanted them to turn off the TV at 1 AM, before they were done with their marathons.

"Well, he is my best friend." Abed had made that much clear after he started hanging out with Molly.

"And I thought I was trying to be your girlfriend!" She deflated and dropped onto the bottom bunk, falling backwards into a collection of pillows. "God, I don't know why I am so upset about this. It's been like a week and I am already acting clingy. I didn't think I would be like this!"

"I think I understand why, actually," Abed offered.

"Really? Because I don't." Her voice was slightly muffled from the pillow she had dragged to hide her face. While she was easy for him to read her emotions, she did sometimes flip from one extreme to another very quickly. It was quite fascinating.

"You're insecure because of what happened with your last boyfriend and how ambiguous your situation was with him. With us, you expressed interest in me, and I find you intriguing and fun to hang around with, but you really want a more solidly defined relationship, even though neither of us are anywhere near that point yet. Anything that seems to threaten our potential closeness is a danger of making things confusing again, and you don't really want that."

She pulled the pillow off of her head. "I can kind of see your point. Maybe I am getting a little too invested too fast. You haven't even kissed me yet."

"You could be the one to kiss me, we don't know yet," Abed pointed out.

"That's not the point. But I'm sorry for being crazy there for a minute. The car thing freaked me out a little. And I thought you said you didn't really understand people's motivations, much less women." Abed shrugged.

"I don't. But it's a classic romantic drama plot." She threw the pillow at him in annoyance, but he fielded it neatly before it could hit him in the face, a handy skill learned during the pillow war last year.

"OK, so you clearly _don't_ understand girls all that well," she grumbled. "We don't appreciate being called predictable."

"Duly noted. As for earlier, were you more concerned about me looking into the crimes, or that I was going to do it with Troy?" If they were further along in a movie, their argument could be resolved with make-up sex, but for now, rational discussion was the proper resolution. She considered the question.

"I think the first one. I've heard a lot of stories from Uncle Owen."

"How about you help me investigate then?" Abed offered.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you said you know more about things like this, so you could help me look into them. I'll still ask Troy, but he has been busier lately." Between Britta, classes, and the AC apprenticeship, Abed did not see Troy nearly as often as he used to, despite living in the same apartment. Add Annie's own classes, internship, and new tendency to seclude herself in her room, Abed was glad for having met Molly, at the least to have someone to hang out with and talk to.

"What, like partners?"

"Sure. Like Mulder and Scully." Molly sneered at the idea.

"That show always scared me when I was little. And I assume I would be Scully in this partnership? She's so short!" Abed merely quirked an eyebrow until she poked him in retaliation. She pointed at the TV.

"How about Booth and Bones? That fits us better, I think." Abed considered it. "True, both sets of partners do show UST towards one another, but don't act on it, kind of like us right now." She flushed at the implication, but he continued, "But I don't really see how we fit them better than Mulder and Scully."

"Well, You would be Bones, as she is really smart, and able to analyze things, but has issues interacting with people in normal social settings."

"That's fair," Abed nodded in agreement.

"And I'm more like Booth. I'm Catholic, I'm pretty good with people, or I like to think so anyways, I know quite a bit about cops and the FBI, and..." She held up the item she had retrieved from the closet earlier. "...I have a gun."

Abed eyed it warily. She seemed to be handling it casually, but at a closer glance, she was quite careful with it. It remained pointed to the ground, with her finger nowhere near the trigger, and the clip was in but not locked, a compromise between keeping it unloaded and speed, as she merely needed to lock it in rather than fumble with inserting it. She noticed him eying it.

"It's a Sig Sauer SP2022 9mm," she informed him in the tone of a recitation. "My dad and Uncle Owen heard about the crime rate in Greendale, especially downtown, and they got a little...overprotective. So for my birthday they got me this, the permit, and lessons. This is the first time I felt glad to have it. It also means I don't need daddy to threaten boys for me," she added teasingly. She carefully looked it over and made sure the safety was on and the clip loose before returning it to the lockbox in the closed she had retrieved it from.

The room was now lit with blinking blue and white lights from the cop cars which had arrived outside. "I should probably head home now," Abed decided. Molly bit her lip and nodded.

"OK. I'm glad you were here when it happened though," she wrapped him in a hug.

"So am I," he agreed. "It was exciting!" She let him go and slapped him on the arm.

"Go on, get going. I'll see you in class Wednesday?" she asked as they walked to the door.

"I'll be there." She wrapped him in another hug.

"Bye Abed! Good night!"

"Night, Molly."

* * *

For once, Abed made sure to remove the brick from the door, letting it close fully after he entered the front of the apartment building. He dropped the brick on the inside, as before long it would be needed to prop the door open again, but tonight, he was honestly a little shaken. Batman feared no criminal, nor did Inspector Spacetime, but it seemed that Abed did, a little. He glanced around the apartment as he opened the door. Annie was sitting at the table, books and papers spread out in front of her as she used some curler thing that made her hair more wavy, a look she had started wearing not long ago. She looked up with a faint smile as she heard him come in.

"Troy's over at Britta's again. So how did your date go?" She continued working on her hair, as she seemed to like how it made her look older.

"It was interesting. We watched some episodes of TV, then watched someone steal a car outside, then I had to talk to the cops." Annie snorted.

"Sounds like a typical Monday back at my old apartment. Did you have fun? Did the two of you kiss?" the last was in a sing-song tone.

"Yes, it was fun, no we didn't kiss. She has a gun."

"Wait, she threatened you with a gun if you tried to kiss her? I thought she was sweet on you?"

"No, the gun thing was separate. Her dad and uncle gave it to her, and she got it out when we heard people stealing the car outside."

"Her dad bought her a gun? Aww! I had to get my own when I moved out of the house." She quickly perked up though. "So why didn't you two kiss? Isn't that like one of the movie things, to face death and then make out?"

"I thought you didn't like Molly?" Abed asked, confused at why she was so interested in whether they had kissed.

"Why wouldn't I like her? You seem to," she reasoned.

"Well, she _is_ friends with Annie Kim. I just figured it was like Mean Girls, where she was part of her group so you were obligated to hate her." Annie smiled.

"I haven't even met her yet. And just because she is friends with Evil Annie, does not mean that she is not a decent person. Maybe a bit naive, if she trusts other-Annie, but she can't be that bad if she likes you." She stood up and gave Abed a hug. "I may be a bit jealous, but I'm glad you are at the point where you can try dating again. It wasn't that long ago that you imagined yourself alone in a locker." Abed broke the hug and cocked his head at her in confusion.

"Jealous? Are you jealous of Molly? I didn't think you thought of me like that..." he trailed off uncomfortably. Annie broke into laughter.

"No, Abed, I'm not jealous of Molly dating you. It's just that if Britta and now you can get their acts together enough to be dating...dating other people I mean, I don't see why I can't get it to work with...yet," the last was reduced to a mumble as she blushed. "Besides, you and I would never work. I love you, but not like that. Sorry." She hugged him again.

"I know." He responded. She looked up at him.

"You're trying to do the Han Solo thing again, aren't you."

"Maybe," Abed admitted.

"Thanks, but I'm not going to swoon just because you pretend to be Han Solo or Don Draper or Richard Gere anymore." Idly, Abed noted that she had left out mentioning his Barney Stinson or Jeff Winger impressions. Of course she was right, and he loved Annie, but not in that way. Jeff or Barney were far more valuable to get her permission for things like late night marathons or the last serving of buttered noodles at dinner than seduction.

"Do you still have your forensic science textbook from last year?" he asked instead.

"Sure. Let me go get it." She quickly retrieved it from her room and handed it to him. "I can get you the notes from the class too. Why do you want this?"

"Research." He took the book and clicked the light on in the blanket fort to read. "Thanks Annie. Night."

"Night Abed."

* * *

Author's Note: First things first. For the purposes of this story, and my own cartographic sanity, I am placing Greendale in Colorado where Greely is in the real world. As for time, the both sections of this story take place on Mon, Oct 8, 2012.

Sorry for the delay in posting this, as I was aiming to get this out on Tuesday, but a long EMS shift and then a few changed ideas meant this chapter took longer to write, plus it decided to just keep growing. That and I kept thinking of bits for the next chapter. I wasn't planning on writing anything from Pierce's POV, but he surprised me and demanded the next chapter. He had a gun, and was very convincing.

I also got distracted reading It's Always Open Season on Princesses, by Elsiesnuffin. It's a great story, and gave me a few ideas, but it also made me sad that mine will never manage to compare to how well written it is. The dialogue and descriptions are near perfect. It's making it hard to resist the urge to go back and do more work on existing chapters, but so far the story will keep moving forwards.

I had a big essay about the various romantic pairings on community attached, but it was massive so I broke it up and posted it at M/M, at: milady-milord*livejournal*com/944784*html?thread=12916880#t12916880

Replace the asterisks with periods, as FF does not seem to like anything that looks like a link.


	8. Elder Statesman

_Table dynamics are a major consideration if Molly is going to join or even sit in on the study group. With the normal setup, the only free space is at the head, between Jeff and Annie, and about as far as you can get from where I sit. She knows Jeff OK, but the rest of the group are still sort of strangers to her, though she is slowly getting acquainted with them. She doesn't seem to like Britta much for some reason though. I may want to ask her about that at some point. _

_There really isn't much room to squeeze in a chair on any of the full sides, so that means we are going to have to break with tradition and change seating places. Jeff is not going to move, at all, and both Myself and Troy need to stay in place, at least to keep up with our collections of notches. The others, though, they could move around a bit that would not only make a place for Molly, but provide a more interesting group dynamic. _

_Annie could easily slide to the empty spot next to Jeff. She takes charge of the study element of the group anyways, so the head of the table is a good place for her. Plus, her dynamic with Jeff will mean that he would be less opposed to her taking that spot than anyone else. And it might even bump up the tension between those two, which could be interesting to watch. Shirley could then take Annie's old spot, and Pierce move to Shirley's old seat. The dynamics of that side of the table are worth preserving. _

_Britta could move to Pierce's old spot. Not only would that put her next to Troy in a way that means we can share him, she has been more mellow with regards to Jeff, so their interactions are less interesting than they used to be, barring some kind of contrived love triangle with her, Troy, and Jeff, though that would quickly turn into a quadrangle with Annie. Something like that would just be unsatisfying and gimmicky. So put her in Pierce's old spot, and then there will be more weight on her interaction with Pierce, which doesn't show up all that often. _

_Finally, that would free up Britta's old seat for Molly to take, which would put her next to me without having to separate from Troy, and next to Jeff, the other person she knows best. It would be a good way to ease her into the group. Though getting the group to go along with this plan may take some doing. Maybe if I pretend to film a scene and put placards at their new spots, it will allay their suspicions until they get used to it. _

_-Abed Nadir, musings on the study room_

* * *

Pierce was still trying to master playing his new Game Boy with one hand while eating a frankly too dry chicken salad sandwich in the other when the sound of trays slapping the table alerted him to Jeff, Britta, and Annie sliding into the booth on the opposite side. Typical. The two girls had Jeff pinned in the center, close enough to brush arms and legs like a sexy Oreo, while none of them sat on his side of the table. Britta plopped a bowl of salad on his tray and he sighed. She was going to expect him to eat that damn salad, like she was his mother. He hated salad, and his own mother watched over him from the soft bubbling glow of her Energon container in his receiving room. Britta really ought to cut it out. No such luck.

"Where did you get the Game Boy?" she asked him.

"Denpheeth" he answered through his sandwich.

"Don't talk with your mouth full!" she scolded. He swallowed and tried again.

"Denny's. And you're going to be a terrible mother," Pierce griped. Annie's eyes lit up and she leaned into Jeff to look at Britta with excitement. Count on her to read a little too much into sarcasm. She could still be rather innocent and naive at times, despite how she had matured over the past few years under his wing.

"Going to be a mother? Britta? Are, are you..._pregnant?_" she whispered. "I have a binder full of ideas for that too!" It was amusing to see Jeff's eyes jitter as they started out rolling but quickly transitioned into either shock or fear, especially with Annie currently half sitting on his lap.

"What? No! Pierce! Ew! And stop that! I'm just trying to look out for you, I'm not your mother!" Annie pouted as Britta denied being preggers and sat back down, likely disappointed at not getting to be an Aunt or pull out another of her huge books of ideas. Then the three others at the table turned to look at her and she gave them a sheepish look.

"Sorry, Abed's been talking about a pregnancy scare plot for one of his films, and it popped into mind." Britta shook her head and turned back to glare at Pierce.

"How did you get a Game Boy at Denny's?"

"And more importantly, why?" Jeff added.

"I found it at Denny's" Pierce defended. "And this Pokey-mon game is surprisingly fun. You catch these little monsters and make them fight."

"You _found_ it at Denny's?" Britta asked suspiciously.

"Yes! I sat down at a table and nearly sat on it. The only other people there were Leonard and the other hipsters, and I know it doesn't belong to any of them, so now it's mine."

"You stole a toy from some poor innocent child, Pierce? How dare you! I'll bet there is some poor child crying about his stolen toy right about now." Shirley announced her presence with one of her usual cliched moral tirades. Pierce merely scooted over to make more room at the booth, but she scowled at him and looked at the other side of the table with Jeff and his harem squeezed together. She frowned at that too before taking a chair from a nearby table and sitting at the end of the booth.

"Fine. Next time I go to Denny's, I'll ask if anyone is looking for it." Pierce capitulated quickly. The game was getting too confusing anyways. It was no Super Mario or Call of Duty, both of which were more his level. And he really didn't want to be singled out as a bad guy today.

"Remember, Pierce, God is watching...oh, you will? That's _nice!_ I'm proud of you!" He wondered if Shirley got a sore throat from how quickly it changed from threatening to sweet, and if she did that to her children. Probably. Hopefully her kids wouldn't get discouraged from a future rewarding career as TSA agents. Though if they learned the threatening voice from their mom, and kept their suspicion of terrorist-looking types, they still had a good chance.

He clicked the game off without bothering to save. Honestly, it had just been something to keep him occupied, and keep his mind from imagining Abed depressingly narrating his life whenever he tried to enjoy a sandwich. The kid had cursed him with his voodoo after he rejected his novel offer, and now the only thing Pierce could think about while trying to enjoy his sandwiches was his advancing age. But now most of the group was here, including all of his usual sparring partners. It was fun to rile up Jeff and Shirley and Brittles, even though he had to hold back somewhat, his full wit could destroy them if he was not careful. His attention was diverted by the approach of Abed, who was wearing a dark suit complemented by a large Star Wars belt buckle and gaudy striped socks.

"Ay-bed, do you have a trial or a funeral or something to go to today?" he asked as the man slid in next to Pierce.

"Nope. I'm Booth. It took me a few days to assemble the outfit. And technically, I'm more like Brennan while Molly is more Boothy, but since I'm the guy and she is the girl, the costumes work better this way, even if it is not entirely faithful to the show. I suppose you could think of it as a body-swap episode of Bones, but it is more of a dramedy than science-fiction, so a body swap episode would be impossible, except for maybe as a dream sequence, which is also rarely used in that genre."

"Ay-bed, that made absolutely no sense whatsoever. You do speak English, correct? Like all American citizens?" Pierce wondered as Jeff pointed at the costume.

"So that is why you asked to borrow a tie and belt from me the other day!" Abed nodded in agreement.

"I would have asked to borrow a suit as well, but I know how protective you are of your clothes if you won't even let Annie wear your clothes for long." Really? That sounded interesting. Everyone alternated between looking between at Abed and at Jeff and Annie, who were avoiding eye contact and blushing respectively. Jeff coughed.

"I think you could have worded that a little better, Abed."

"I'm talking about your jacket at the Wigging Out Dance, when you gave it to Annie when she was cold, then took it right back."

"That's nice?" Shirley ventured. Jeff merely turned to Annie and glared.

"You told him about that?" Britta also had an accusation for Annie.

"Wait, the Wig Dance? Isn't that the one you talked us all out of going to?" Jeff turned to Britta in surprise.

"Wait, Annie talked you out of it? She told me that none of you wanted to go, so it was just her and I that night!" They both turned to look at Annie again, who scooted away from Jeff towards the edge of the booth, ready for a quick escape.

"OK, yes, I may have told _some _people not to come, but you weren't going to anyways! Britta, you didn't want to wear a wig, Shirley was going to go see a movie with her kids, and Pierce, you were going to do another mock the movie night with Troy and Abed!" Jeff crossed his arms.

"That's not the point! Why did you tell me that no one else wanted to come?"

"Well, Jeff, you don't like messing up your hair, and if you had the chance, you would have come up with some excuse to avoid going and wearing a wig! And I wanted to go!"

"So you guilted me into it?"

"Not exactly...besides you had fun! We both had fun! Even if you got a little obsessed with wooden hangars there for a bit." It was strange. Annie and Jeff had recently begun to bicker incessantly, which brought back fond memories of Pierce's third wife Genevive, or the semi-regular times he got together with Wu Mei for dinner and wild sex. In fact, they were due to meet up again next week. True, his banishment from Hawthorne Wipes by the ungrateful rabble there meant there was to be no marriage of the two dynasties, and thus Wu Mei had no plans to become a future ex-Mrs. Hawthorne, they were kindred spirits and their mutual loathing translated well in bed.

Both Jeff and Annie abruptly shut up and plastered smiles on their faces as Troy finally arrived and completed the group, sliding in next to Abed and thus pushing both him and Pierce down the booth.

"Hey, Abed, Men in Black?" Abed shook his head.

"Booth, from Bones. I'm pairing up with Molly for some investigation around Greendale. And you said you didn't have time with helping Britta and the AC school stuff." He inclined his head as though asking either forgiveness or permission.

"Sure, cool man. You're right, I am too busy to do that right now. Go have fun with Tiny Tot. Just ask first if she wants to become another assistant for the Inspector and Constable. And no co-hosting. We already have enough problems with that." He glanced over at Annie, who fortunately missed it, involved with a sort of stare off with Jeff. That or more likely one of their their silent conversations.

"What sort of investigation?" Shirley asked, interest peaked.

"Mainly into why there have been so many petty crimes around campus these last couple weeks," Abed replied. Jeff broke in.

"It's getting pretty bad. I'm getting worried for my car, imagining someone will take a keytar to it again or something. Someone as dangerous as Chang, but more mentally stable." He winced at the memory. "Plus you're right, it's getting worse. This morning I saw one of the security guys chasing after one of the hipsters who stole his security Segway." Pierce laughed.

"That was Barney. He's been bragging about it all over Twitter. Says he plans to use it instead of his walker from now on."

"Oh, my!" Shirley said. "It is getting bad out there. So Abed, are you planning on investigating these criminals? Can I help?"

"Sure, Shirley. We could use a DA to help keep us in line, make sure we get the evidence we need." He glanced over to the harem side of the table. "We could also use a lawyer to help prosecute, another squint to help out with the science and maybe a profiler." Jeff shook his head first.

"Sorry, I've got classes to take, a bunch of introverts to keep talking, and no stake in this whatsoever." Britta also shook her head after looking at Troy.

"I would love to, but unless you can talk some of my professors into giving me extra credit for doing it, I don't have the free time. My psych classes are a lot harder this semester, and I need to study more. And Professor Lackey is about to give us a research assignment next week." Annie seemed to consider it, then sighed.

"Sorry Abed. You can keep borrowing my forensics book, but I don't think I am up to really helping you. I also have to prepare for Professor Lackey's project. Britta's the psychology ace, not me, so I am going to have to prepare more to keep my A+ going. And I don't want to get in the way of you and Molly spending time together." Pierce cleared his throat.

"What about me, Ay-bed? I have time. I can help!" Pierce protested what seemed to be his exclusion yet again.

"Well, Pierce, no offense, but when it comes to petty crimes, I see you more on the criminal side than the law enforcement team."

"That's not true! Why would you say that!"

"Exactly how many gambling rings have you run since you came to Greendale?" Jeff broke in.

"Those were shady, not criminal! Is there any law on campus about small scale bets? And you don't see anyone with broken knees, do you?"

"You did seem awfully in character when you played the gangster bookie for last year's paintball game." Abed pointed out then shook his head. "Not the point. If you get involved, that will compromise evidence." He reasoned.

"Fine! Maybe I'll start my own investigation!"

"No, you'll fall asleep after lunch and forget about it," Jeff retorted. It was probably true. The library had some lovely sun beams when it wasn't cloudy. Pierce merely humphed in response. He could have come back with a scathing rebuttal, but already the group had fractured into the usual side discussions that occupied most lunches.

Pierce merely sat back and watched Jeff turn his attention elsewhere. Specifically, towards Annie's small pile of fries. The younger man refused to buy them himself, complaining about health and cholesterol levels (what Pierce would give to only have one pill to bitch about rather than have his doctors treat him like a drug mule with all their prescriptions) but every lunch, he and Annie fell into a routine. As the other members of the group split into their own discussions, his hand slid across the table quietly to steal a fry, only to be stopped without looking by a light swat by Annie.

The ritual would repeat several more times with the duo carefully not looking at each other until Jeff would finally manage to sneak past and grab a fry with a smug grin. At that point, Annie would roll her eyes at him rather indulgently, and slide the small paper tray of them closer so he didn't have to reach as far. In return, Jeff would fish out a bag of all-natural organic heart healthy trail mix snack stuff and hand it to her. Pierce couldn't stand the crap himself, even if it was one of the allowed food products for those seeking further promotion through the laser lotus ranks of his Buddhist church. But Annie would give him a bright smile, and carefully fish out the macadamia nuts and M&Ms to munch on before handing the bag back to Jeff. The two were like a yo-yo. One moment they would be bickering, the next they would be avoiding one another, the next, sharing food like it was nothing.

The others were involved in side conversations of their own. Abed and Shirley were discussing the Passion of the Christ movie, whether it was a religious movie or a Christian themed horror/gore film. Britta was trying to eat a salad around a pile of notes for one of her psychology classes, passing the occasional sheet around Jeff to Annie, who shared that particular class with her. Jeff merely leaned back and chewed on his stolen fries, poking away at his phone with studied disinterest. And Troy was alternating between joining Abed's side of the movie debate and trying to help Britta study.

All too soon, the clock chimed and the group began to scatter to various classes, leaving Pierce alone at the table again. Annie lingered behind the rest for a moment.

"Are we going to meet up at Ripley's this afternoon?" she asked him. Pierce considered it and then nodded.

"Four-thirty work for you?" She nodded her own agreement and then scampered off to join Britta for the walk to their psych class. Speaking of psych classes...

"Fossil" Professor Duncan greeted Pierce and sat down in the newly unoccupied booth.

"Limey," he replied as Ian made himself comfortable. "So what brings you by my little section of the cafeteria?"

"Well, well, that's no way to treat a friend now is it? Care for a nip?" He offered up a small flask that smelled of cheap bourbon. Pierce waved it away. He had better stuff at home than the swill Duncan liked. The man was a functional drunk, though leaning more towards the drunk side of that equation on many days.

"I thought you Brits were all snobs about your drinks? Or is that Germans?" Pierce wondered. Ian snorted and took another sip.

"Well, if we were on the proper side of the pond, I could maybe afford to. I'd also be able to enjoy better television, a decent game of football live rather than rebroadcast, and the ability to flip open any magazine and see a girl with decent jubblies on display. Oh, speaking of which, is the blond friend of yours still going out with Abed's friend? If not, I may want to offer some one-on-one psychology tutoring if you know what I mean."

Pierce shook his head. "Nope, those two are still together."

"What about Annie? She has a lovely set on her as well. She still chasing after Winger?" Ian trailed off at the scowl Pierce was directing his way.

"I like Annie. I consider her a close friend. Got it?"

"Fine, fine, lay off her even if she is a hottie. I got it, grandpa. How about Abed? Is he still a little woo in the head? Any chance he be willing to let a trained psychologist write a book about him, and maybe help him a little in the process?"

"Sorry. He's actually seeing a therapist now," Pierce informed him.

"That bugger! Who is it? Maybe I can offer my experience in return for a co-authorship."

"I think his name is Connor, but I can't really recall."

"Connor...Connor. Any relation to Jeff's turncoat friend Alan Connor?" Pierce hadn't realized the coincidence in the names before, but shook his head.

"Nope, not unless they are adopted brothers or half brothers or something. The doctor is black, looks kind of like Morgan Freeman, actually. Issac! That's the name!"

"Issac Connor? Oh, damn, I've heard of him. Stupid straight-laced boy scout wouldn't know a great book deal if it walked up to him with a bribe. I mean what kind of psychologist puts their patients before a primo publishing opportunity?" Pierce just let him rant for a few more moments before getting to the point.

"So what was the real reason you stopped by just now?" Duncan tucked his flask away and leaned forward in excitement.

"Did you hear about what happened to Leonard yesterday?"

"Leonard? No, why?" Hopefully nothing bad, Leonard owed Pierce forty bucks.

"Well, you know that giant cartoon tunnel that's painted on the side of North Hall?"

"The one that has been there a few years now?" Pierce vaguely recalled it.

"That's the one. Well, Leonard had a senile moment and figured it was real, and the stupid wanker tried to drive through it. Thought it was a shortcut off campus." Duncan chuckled at the idiocy. Pierce joined in. Leonard was a compatriot, but not exactly a friend.

"I wonder if he will be doing a video review of airbags next?" he joked, causing Ian to nearly choke with laughter and several other students to glance at the duo strangely.

"Well, now that that piece of juicy gossip is out of the way, the real reason I dropped by is that I heard you have action going and want it. What do you have?" Pierce glanced around, seeing the students returning to the bustle of lunch, and no campus security nearby. He pulled out a handful of notebooks from his backpack and dropped them on the table in front of himself. They weren't _illegal_, really, but if he had to bribe campus security or something, that would eat into his cut.

"Well, the big thing going right now is the Football spreads and draft league."

"Football?" Duncan perked up. "I know quite a bit about that. I'm a real Man U fan myself." Pierce looked at him as if he was speaking Spanish.

"_American_ football. The real sport. NFL," he clarified, and Ian deflated in disappointment. "I do have quite a bit of local action though as well. Tracking the various Greendale and City College games, the Dean Dress watch, and the new one, Crime Watch."

"Ooh, that last one sounds interesting. What does it entail?"

"Well, with the recent increase in crime on the campus, now we place numbers on it. What will happen, where, and when. Of course, if you commit it yourself or contract it out to try to influence the results, you forfeit your cash. Right now good money is riding on seeing a graffiti strike on Sunday, on somebody's car."

"Ooh," Duncan said, pulling out a stack of mid-sized bills. "I think I'll take a little of that. What other options do you have open right now?" The duo dropped into hushed tones and they discussed the various wagers Duncan wanted in on. Pierce didn't plan to tell him about the Drunk-Watch game following professors though. Ian was a fairly predictable result for that little wager. In fact, Pierce would have to note who had today down, and pay out their winnings.

* * *

As Pierce pulled into the parking lot of Ripley's Gun Range, he saw Annie standing outside the door, dressed in jeans and a long sleeved green fleece, with a pair of slightly over-sized sun glasses perched on her nose. He could have sworn that he had seen those glasses before, but worn by Jeff. She saw him arrive and waved cheerfully with the hand not burdened with a locked pistol case. He pulled into a spot and grabbed the cardboard box containing extra ammunition, cleaning equipment, ear and eye protection, and other various shooting accessories. Pierce would have been perfectly happy to just carry around his manly hand cannon like always, but after he had tried to give Gilbert a gun at the video game place, Annie had berated him about gun safety, and forced him to take a safety and shooting class. Now they met up every few weeks to practice shooting, and Pierce had acquired about 15 pounds of crap that Annie had talked him into buying.

Anyone else, and Pierce would have refused, but Annie was his favorite, so they had gone to a gun store and left with a huge collection of things. Pierce had even bought Annie some things as well, to replace the cheap stuff that was all she could afford when she first got a gun. He lugged the cardboard box over to her, careful not to drop it and spill stuff all over the sidewalk. Knowing Annie, she had everything he did, but neatly organized in the backpack she was wearing, which was carefully locked with tiny padlocks. Pierce would roll his eyes, but if she saw it was likely he would have to sit through another lecture of 'safety first.'

"You're late!" she scolded as he walked up.

"I'm old," he replied. To anyone else, he would deny the fact, but she believed in him, so she earned some honesty in return. They walked inside and waved to Scott at the counter. Pierce paid the range fees while Annie signed in and unlocked her backpack to show off the goggles and ear muffs she carried. In the process, Pierce watched her put the sunglasses away carefully into a case and slip them into a side pocket of the bag. Pierce rifled through his cardboard box to show his own ear and eye protection, and they were allowed into the range proper.

"So what are we shooting for today?" she asked him. Pierce considered it. Annie had gotten competitive quickly over marksmanship, so they had started making bets over who was the better shot. So far she had won most of their duels, but he took advantage of that and would often eager things that she would not normally accept as gifts or assistance. She was too smart not to see through the ploy, but accepted the bets without protest. Last time she had wagered Wallace, her giant green sock monkey, while Pierce and offered up and lost the tiara he had tried to give her a while back. Last time he had been to the apartment, the tiara was proudly displayed on her dresser. There might be trouble if she suspected he was throwing the competition, but annoyingly he didn't have to. She was a pretty good shot.

"How about if I win, you make me the lead in the next drug play you do. Isn't that coming up soon?"

"February," she confirmed.

"And if you win, how about I go get your car checked out by a real mechanic. You've been complaining about the odd noises for a while now."

"I've had Troy look at it!" she said defensively as she checked the little revolver that normally resided in her purse. Pierce hung up one of the paper targets he had chosen, an image of a terrorist with an angry expression and an assault rifle.

"Was it a problem with the air conditioner?" Pierce scoffed. Troy was a good kid and a good ex-roommate, but some people expected his talent at air conditioner and plumbing repair to extend to everything. Pierce knew from personal experience that both kitchen appliances and remote controls were beyond his abilities, from a series of misadventures when he had lived in Pierce's mansion.

"Well, the air conditioner does have a problem, but there seems to be other stuff wrong with it too," she admitted, hanging up her own target, a quintet of small circular bulls-eyes. Both of them hit the button to slide the targets out to 25 feet. "But fine, we can do that." Her normally animated face stilled into concentration as she squared up to the target, both hands on the pistol. She carefully sighted and pulled the trigger, sending six shots down range with a series of sharp metallic cracks. It was a decent little pistol, a modified .38 special that she had picked up at a pawn shop shortly after moving to her apartment over Dildopolis.

Pierce hefted his own gun, the far mightier and venerable M1911a1. It only boasted one more round than Annie's dinky revolver, but as he turned shoulder on and fired one handed, the recoil kicked hard and he could taste as well as feel and hear the metallic thunderclaps that echoed with each shot. This was a real gun, a gun the deserved respect, just like its owner. Seven shots filled him with a feeling of power, before it clicked dry. They both reloaded and fired again, the roar of Pierce's gun drowning out the sharper sounds of Annie's placed shots. Knowing Annie was watching him, he carefully clicked the safety on and released the clip, also eyeing the chamber for any rounds even though he knew he had fired them all. After he set it down, he looked over to see her give him a satisfied nod at his actions.

A quick press of the button brought the targets back to them and they inspected their handiwork. Pierce's terrorist was well and truly dead, but the holes were somewhat scattered across the silhouette in a haphazard pattern. At least all of them hit somewhere on the target this time, and if it was a real gunfight, the stopping power of his pistol would mean any of the hits would at least stagger a potential jihadi. He happily took the paper down and rolled it up to add to his collection of dead terrorists back home, replacing it with a fresh copy. He glanced over and saw Annie frowning at her own target.

Normally, her accuracy was very good, having taken to learning and practicing marksmanship as diligently as any other academic subject, but today, her target looked almost as scattered as his normally did. Not one round had hit the center. She merely frowned at it and rolled it up as well, her new paper joining his sliding back out to a distance of 25 feet. Several more clips of ammunition and rolled up targets joined the first pair, and while Pierce managed to ease into a rhythm and improve his grouping marginally, Annie could not seem to match her usual level of skill, punching more erratic patterns in the circles. He could see her getting more and more frustrated, even though she was still clearly winning their competition. Finally his box of ammunition ran out, and he simply watched as she finished off her own box before putting their guns away.

Silently, they departed the range as several other regulars entered. Pierce was glad that they had only arrived now, so the group of NRA hunter punks would not see and mock his mediocre aim, much less Annie's oddly haphazard shooting. Outside, they stripped off the now uncomfortable goggles and earplugs, and Annie wiped an arm across her forehead to brush away sweat, leaving a black smear of powder residue. He pointed it out to her and she merely grunted in annoyance, not bothering to do anything about it. Something was clearly wrong. The poor showing seemed to be a symptom, not a cause of her now grumpy demeanor.

Annie made her way to the side room with a row of tables and set her bag on it, pulling out both her revolver and the fancy cleaning kit she had chosen. Pierce would rather wait and clean his own gun later, but something was going on, so he sat down beside her and copied her actions.

"Are you feeling all right?" he ventured.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you don't seem...well, you today."

"I'm fine," she grumbled.

"You're not fine, Annie. What's going on?" he asked gently. She sighed then deflated.

"Promise you won't tell anyone else?"

"I promise."

"_And_ that you won't tweet it?" Damn. Was the that predictable?

"Fine, even though Old White Man Says could use some new content," he promised. She set down the gun and cloth.

"Remember back when we all went to the bar for Troy's 21st birthday, and I was Caroline Decker?" Pierce shook his head.

"Not really, no. I got stuck in the entrance."

"Oh," she was nonplussed for a moment before continuing on. "Well, that was a bad day for me. I started wondering who I was, and how I had planned my life so much that I wasn't enjoying it. I wasn't sure about who I was."

"Is that what you are feeling right now?" She shook her head.

"No. Well, sort of. I know who I am, and while I'm not exactly happy with that sometimes, the problem recently is not the same. Do you ever wonder what you want, or what you have done with your life, if you could change things?"

"Of course. People normally do that. It's called a mid-life crisis. I would like to say I've never gone through that, but we both know that is not true. It's the reason I have been coming to Greendale for about 14 years now. Do you know what is causing it?" She sighed.

"Maybe? It just feels like I am not really accomplishing anything. Everyone else seems to be getting what they want. You and Shirley have the sandwich place. Jeff is going to get his law degree back when he graduates. Troy will take another year, but seems to really enjoy the AC thing. Britta actually seems to be doing really well in her psychology classes, and has even been helping out both Abed and Jeff a little bit. And Abed has been submitting some of his films to local festivals. Meanwhile, I am not even sure what I want to do when I finish here. I've been studying hospital administration, but do I really want to do that for the rest of my life? I like helping people, but it can be really depressing sometimes, and I'm not sure if I decided to do it because I really _want_ to or because I hoped that maybe it was a noble and valuable profession that would make my mom proud of me again. But last year was strange, and I decided to take some classes in forensics after watching some of those crime shows with Shirley, and I had so much fun working with Jeff on the yam case that I might want to be a lawyer, but Jeff doesn't seem to think I should be one for some reason."

Her voice sped up towards the end, and Pierce took a moment to process the ramble. Once she decided to confide in him, it all spilled out in a jumble, disorganized and fast. It was like pressure had been building and was finally released. But despite that, it seemed like something was still not being said. He may not have the best sense of decorum, but at his age,with seven ex-wives, Pierce could be surprisingly perspective about other people at times. "Are you sure that is it? Anything else making you feel this way?"

She looked at him, almost in shock, before going into a seeming non-sequitor. "I've been having these weird dreams. All of them about going on a vacation. London, camping, a beach house on the Jersey Shore, Italy, a few others. Do you have an estate in Italy by any chance?" she asked.

"No, but I thought about it once. Elaine, one of my ex-wives wanted me to get one, but Dad said that it would be poor form for a true Hawthorne to associate with the Italians, who he said were the gutter rats of Europe. So I never did look into one, and Elaine and I separated not long after," he reminisced. "Were you alone on your vacation dreams?" he pressed. She merely blushed, and so he made a speculation. "And did these vacation dreams turn into wet dreams?"

"Pierce!" she shrieked in embarrassment. She didn't deny it though. He smiled. She may be embarrassed by his suggestion, but she was nowhere near as sheltered about the whole idea of sex as when she first came to Greendale. He knew for a fact that she had mellowed during her time in the Dildopolis apartment, and he had once seen her try to hide a copy of 'The Big Book of Hand-job Jokes' when he stopped by her apartment once. He would have bet that she had patronized her ex-downstairs neighbor out of curiosity a few times a few times as well.

"So is it sex or just romance that is the problem?" he asked her. Still blushing, she didn't answer directly.

"It's that I thought I would be with someone by now. Shirley is back together with Andre, even after what he did. Britta has managed to get over her issues and is together with Troy, who I had a crush on long ago. Britta! Ms. 'Romance is merely a means to subjugate women to the whim of men!' And then there is Abed, who told me not long ago that he couldn't see himself in a relationship, and didn't predict himself ever finding someone and getting married, now has a girlfriend who comes over to our apartment a few times a week. Both he and Troy now seem to spend more time with their girlfriends than they do at home. Even though Abed hasn't even kissed Molly yet, he practically spends the night over at her place sometimes, watching movies or TV or something." That was interesting. Pierce knew that Abed was hanging out with the dinky little girl from Speaking class, but he didn't know that they considered themselves boyfriend/girlfriend. Score one for the robot!

"I don't mean to brag, but I have a sort of off and on booty call thing going with Wu Mei myself," he couldn't help but add. She glanced at him and her face twisted into something that was part glare, part pity, and part disgust. It was actually a pretty good impression of that River girl from Troy and Abed's Firefly movie.

"That's not helping, and I really didn't need to know that," she groused. He thought about mentioning Jeff, whom she conspicuously had not mentioned in her romance/dating rant, but experience had taught him that he didn't approach the subject carefully, pushing her on _that_ topic was a sure way to get her to clam up. It was obvious that the two liked each other, but for some reason they had not gotten together. If Jeff wasn't going to man up and make Annie happy, Pierce would have to step in.

"You know, I know a few guys about your age who you might be interested in, if you are looking." Annie looked at him confused. "Some of the guys who applied to work at the sandwich place seem like your type. And as a bonus, I have background checks on them as well!"

"Wait, you ran background checks on boys you thought I might want to date?" she asked in shock.

"No, no. I ran background checks on the people who wanted to work at the sandwich place. But I can set you up with some of the good ones if you like," he offered.

"Umm, thank you? But I don't want to try dating someone at random just because all my friends are in relationships. And why are you trying to help me like this?" Pierce sighed.

"You know you are my favorite, right? Out of the group?"

"Yes, Abed said that you said that once."

"Well, I had a stroke over the summer, after we finished retaking Biology." She gasped and her eyes watered up.

"Pierce! What? Are you all right? Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't the hospital call Jeff or Britta?" He put a hand on her shoulder to calm her down.

"Annie, I'm fine. They took me to the cath lab and cleared my brain out, which I checked with my church and they said it won't affect my laser lotus level any. And I told the hospital not to call Jeff or Brittles because I didn't want any of you to know." She sniffed and wiped away a couple of tears.

"So why are you telling me now?"

"Annie, I'm having to deal with the fact that I am getting old. I really can't deny it any more. I have 7 ex-wives and more than 30 ex-step children, but I never hear from them unless they want money for some reason. You guys are basically my family, even if we don't get along at times. And I think of you like the daughter I never had. Well, OK, with our relative ages you could be a granddaughter I never had, but I'm not quite _that_ accepting of my age yet. And daughter is closer than granddaughter. So I think of you like a daughter. But not my actual daughter, because then my dream the other night would be really weird. You and Brittles were in it, wearing lingerie, and you kept trying to take off her bra, but every time you did there was another one underneath it, until eventually you got annoyed and gave up, then you were wearing something with feathers..."

"Pierce!" she interrupted, cringing. "I don't need to hear that! I only recently figured out the sock thing Britta told me a while back, I don't want to know that about you, too!"

"OK, OK," he relented. The point still stands though. Not the dream point, but the I think of you like a daughter point. And I want you to be happy." She looked at him with wide eyes then launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug.

"Aww, Pierce, that's so sweet!" She let go and stepped back.

"So do you want me to set you up with Ryan, or Jake? Both of them are really nice." She bit her lip.

"I know you want to help, but..."

"But they aren't Jeff?" he finally decided to come out and say it.

"Pierce..." she said with a warning tone in her voice.

"What? You are going to have to admit it sometime, or you aren't going to get anywhere."

"I don't love him!" she blurted. "I mean, I had a crush on him, and I like Jeff, but I don't love him, I'm in love with the idea of being loved and if I could get him to love me, I could get anyone to." Pierce tried to cock an eyebrow, but failed. There must be some special trick to it that he didn't have. He didn't bother to try to parse the tangled ball of logic she had just spewed.

"I didn't ask that, Annie," he told her gently.

"Oh," she replied meekly. "Abed thought I loved Jeff, like a little girl with a crush. He was wrong. I don't really love him."

"Well, maybe Ay-bed was wrong, but you are too."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, you're young. You're a smart kid, but you have a view of love based on Disney movies and Hugh Grant. And Ay-bed is a robot. He really doesn't have a clue about love either. He's going to have to figure it out himself if he wants to be Pinocchio."

"Weren't you just saying that you have seven ex-wives and a bunch of distant ex-relatives?" she tried to scoff defensively. It was true, and it hurt a little, but that fact wasn't going to change.

"You're right. I don't have the best track record myself. But I'm not the foppish old man you all think I am sometimes. I may be too streets-ahead to understand sometimes, but I have also been through a lot of this stuff already, before you were even born. Jeff was the one who pointed out to me that sure, I've been divorced seven times, but I've also been _married_ seven times. I've seen how you look at him, and how he looks at you, and I remember some of the good times I had with my various wives. And if you want to figure out what you want, or who you want, I'm offering to help you meet some people, but you also have to stop lying to yourself about your feelings. You may not be _in love_ with him like that yet, but you do love him, and the potential is there." She simply sat for several minutes, processing what he said, absolutely motionless and silent. Finally she spoke in a quiet voice.

"Every time I try to talk to him about it, he tries to ignore it or change the subject. What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if he's a lost cause?"

"The same goes for him as well, even if he is too stupid to admit to it or even realize it. And even if he does, he's a lawyer." Pierce concluded.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"He's a lawyer. He likes to be in control, all the time. And from what I have seen, he doesn't understand relationships all that well, which makes him feel out of control. So in cases like that, a lawyer is going to try to avoid the issue or manipulate things to a place they feel like they know what they are doing again. An out of control lawyer is one who loses his case."

"What do you mean he doesn't understand relationships? What does that even mean?"

"Do you know why Jeff and I don't get along all that well?" Pierce asked her.

"Huh?" Annie was confused about the seeming change of subject. "I hadn't really thought about it."

"Jeff won't admit it, but we are a lot alike. He sees me and is afraid that he will end up like me. And I see him and I see the arrogant jackass who I used to be who _did_ end up like me, with a band of misfits at a community college as the closest thing I have to a real family anymore."

"What does that mean? And you shouldn't be ashamed of who you are, neither should Jeff! Both of you are good people, even if you both occasionally can be a little..._insensitive_ of others."

"Well, the point is that even with seven tries, I can't figure out how to get a relationship to last, and Jeff hasn't had a normal relationship either. The closest he has come was with Slater, and you know how that turned out," he added a bit pointedly. Leonard had enjoyed spreading that piece of gossip around for a while before Pierce had bribed him to shut up about it. "He may have some excuses to justify it to himself and even to you, but he doesn't really understand what love really means. So if you want Jeff, you are going to have to convince him. That, or move on. Then maybe you will be a little less cranky," he pointed out.

"Cranky? I haven't been cranky!" she protested. Pierce didn't say anything. "OK, maybe I have, a little," she admitted sheepishly. She didn't comment on the other part, but he could see her mulling it over, and decided to give her another little nudge.

"The thing is, I'd make up your mind pretty soon. You can't afford to spend too much time thinking about things. Your evil twin seems to be trying to make a move on Jeff if you don't." Nothing like an appeal to her competitive side.

"What? Evil twin?"

"You know, the Asian you, the one who is friends with Ay-bed's new little buddy?" He could not remember her name for anything.

"You mean Annie Kim?" No wonder he couldn't remember. It was stupid name. Who has a first name for a last name too?

"Yes! That's her. She's been chatting up your potential boyfriend in class for a while now."

"What? Why?"

"Well, she is a girl, _and_ she's Asian. My guess is a sneak attack to steal Jeff away from you. But so far, I don't think Jeff has agreed to anything yet. As far as I know. So you need to get your act together."

"That... OK, you may be right," Annie hissed. "Thanks Pierce." She gave him a quick hug.

"What are you going to do?" he asked her.

"I'm not quite sure yet. I'll have to think about it."

"Don't take too long, or your evil twin may win by default," he cautioned. She winced at the thought.

"I don't know why she is even interested in him."

"Well, you are, and have been for a while," he pointed out.

"Yeah," she agreed distractedly.

"Do you want to go grab dinner after we finish here?" he asked. She held up a shiny clean weapon, evidently finished while they were talking.

"Sorry, but I think I want to just go home. I have a lot to think about, and my emotions have been all over the place today, so I'm kind of worn out. And please don't tell anyone anything about what we talked about? Rain check on dinner?"

"Sure. And if you need to talk some more, I'm here." She hugged him again.

"Thanks Pierce." Annie packed up her stuff neatly and returned it to the various compartments of her backpack and gun case before carefully attaching the multiple little padlocks. She waved at him and left Pierce to finish cleaning his own pistol, which still lay in pieces surrounded with dirty rags and oiled wipes.

Pierce honestly had mixed feelings about Annie's interest in Jeff. The younger man _was_ like a younger Pierce after all, and was just as selfish and egotistical as that implied. And he had done some things that really hurt Annie in the past, like hooking up with Britta in secret. But Annie liked him, seemed to think that being with Jeff would make her happy. So if she _did_ decide to press the issue with him, Pierce would support her, for her sake. And while she had made him promise not to talk or tweet (she didn't mention Facebook or E-mail, but in this case, for Annie, he would assume that those counted as well) about their discussion, but she _hadn't_ told him not to get involved himself. The least he could do is maybe feel Jeff up, see what was going on with him, and maybe see if Evil-Annie was making any progress. It was the least he could do for his pseudo-daughter, and you could find out a surprising amount with the combination of Ear-noculars, a camera equipped Dragon-flier, and a decent private investigator or two.

* * *

Authors Note: Both sections take place on Thursday Oct 11, 2012.

Sorry for the long delay. Lost internet for about a week around election time, after making it through Sandy just fine. And then took a demoralizing hit when an unexpected shutdown wiped out part of this chapter and a good portion of the next before I could back them up. I did find another really good author during that time though: 0penheart

On one hand, having to rewrite part of the story is a mixed blessing. I was pretty happy with the original work, and having to do it again didn't have the same spontaneous feel as the first time. Plus, I had to read the entire thing from the start as well to catch up with continuity. I can now say that the epigraph by Molly in chapter 3 takes place roughly some time between this chapter and the next one, timeline wise.

The positive side to having to do a rewrite is that I went back and cleaned up a few things, smoothing over continuity and characterization a tad, and adding in a few new ideas that fit well. I have already gone back and redone chapters 1 and 2 once, but at some point I may go back to them and add to both them and chapter 4. It feels odd to have chapters shorty like that (2000-3000) words compared to the more recent chapters. Though it does seem like every time I do an Abed chapter, it is far longer than the previous one and sets up a new sort of average.


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